Razor's Edge: Requiem
by Tairis Deamhan
Summary: John Shepard has only one truth left. That the cycle must be broken no matter the cost. The price will be more than anyone should have to bear but the prize is the future, for those he cares for and for all life in the galaxy.
1. Prologue

Razor's Edge: Requiem

Prologue

_Under the wide and starry sky_

_Dig the grave and let me lie._

_Gladly did I live and gladly die,_

_And I laid me down with a will._

_This be the verse you grave for me;_

_"Here he lies where he longed to be,_

_Home is the sailor, home from sea,_

_And the hunter home from the hill."_

- Robert Louis Stevenson

"Commander Johnathan Shepard, you are hereby stripped of all rank in the Systems Alliance Navy and issued a discharge of 'Other Than Honorable'. You will be restricted to indefinite detention at this facility while we assess the claims put forward regarding the incidents in the Bahak system, as well as your involvement with the terrorist organization known as Cerberus."

He bowed his head, a deep sigh echoing in his chest followed by a derisive laugh at the absurdity of it all. For all that he had done, all that he had accomplished even he couldn't seem to change the monolithic inevitability of the political machine.

The Admiral sitting in the middle of the tribunal frowned, fingers steepled in front of him. "Are you amused by these proceedings, Shepard? It is only due to Admiral Anderson's urgings and your previous history as humanity's first spectre that we have reached such a lenient judgement. Any other soldier that stood before us on similar charges would have been extradited to the Hegemony for execution."

Shepard looked up, unfazed by the implied threat. "The thought that when all is said and done that our enemy's greatest weapon isn't weapons or armor but our own politics and self-interest can't help but bring me some amusement, Admiral."

"We have experts reviewing the data you provided to the Council after your trip through the Omega 4 relay. If there is an imminent threat it will be dealt with accordingly," the second Admiral added. A woman, probably a few years younger than his mother with fading red hair. The words tumbled so easily from her lips, speaking of years of politics and prepared statements. "This doesn't change the fact that over a quarter of a million Batarian citizens were killed, a direct result of your actions during the course of your mission for Admiral Hackett."

The third member of the tribunal nodded. "Or the other, equally disturbing things in these reports. The destruction of an entire prison ship? A full on assault of a private estate on Bekenstein? Your tenuous spectre status technically overrides any criminal charges we could level against you for these actions but it does not change the impression they give."

The stare he fixed them with could have frozen water from across the room.

"I am fully aware of the consequences of my actions, Admiral. I always have been. So please, continue. Placate and politic. Go home at night and be with your husband or your wife, pretend the world will never change. Enjoy it, appreciate it. Hold onto every moment and burn it into your memory. Because I promise you that it will change. Someday soon memories might be all we have."

None of the tribunal responded, instead simply motioning for the guards to escort him out. For the first time since joining the military over a decade ago he didn't snap a crisp salute to his superior officers. He wasn't Commander Shepard anymore. He was just a man with too many memories that he'd rather forget and a small handful that kept him putting one foot in front of the other.

* * *

><p><em>Two months later...<em>

He sat at the table, staring at a blinking cursor, willing himself to think of some other shred of information or evidence that could help. Convince someone of the danger. Shepard's hand rubbed at his jaw, thick with stubble. He wasn't technically an Alliance soldier anymore so damn the regulations about personal appearance. For all intents and purposes he was persona non-grata, he wasn't in prison, he wasn't free, he just... was. And there was nothing he could do about it.

That wasn't entirely true, he admitted to himself. He could escape. The fact of the matter was there wasn't a great deal they could do to stop him. One covert drop to the Illusive Man would likely have him out without so much as a form signed, but that was a deal with the devil he wasn't willing to make. A more conventional escape was also feasible. Confidence rather than arrogance told him that the pair of guards outside his 'accommodations' wouldn't be much of a challenge and the Alliance had spent a great deal of money training him for just this sort of situation. But one way or the other someone would get hurt, probably killed. A good soldier, just doing their job. That was one more life he didn't want to add to the ever growing list of names in the back of his mind.

A light rap at his door caused Shepard to look up. Without waiting for a reply it slid open with that faint hiss that was so familiar. A young woman with gold lieutenant bars stepped inside past the two MPs with a datapad in hand.

"Ah Com- I mean, Mr. Shepard?"

"Unless they have someone else under guard here, that would be me," he replied tiredly. "What can I do for you?"

She blushed. Definitely a newly minted officer, young and impressionable. "Of course. I was recently assigned here and I heard that you were... staying on site. I just needed to say thank you."

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "For what, Lieutenant?"

"My uncle and all my cousins live on Horizon. They were there when the Collectors attacked. My uncle didn't make it but... the only reason my cousins and aunt aren't gone too is because you showed up and stopped them," she explained. "So thank you."

"I don't know what to say. You're welcome seems arrogant. I just wish I'd arrived sooner, maybe your uncle would still be with us."

She smiled and sat the datapad down on the edge of his desk. "You did more than anyone else. So thank you again. It was an honor to meet you, sir."

With that she turned on her heel and hit the door control, stepping through as soon as they opened. The former soldier noticed the datapad sitting on the edge of his desk and stood to call her back but when she glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes he stopped. The door closed with a quiet thump without a word spoken. Sitting back down he picked up the device and tapped the screen.

The pad sprung to life, showing a rather pedestrian looking extranet mail account. He was going to call the Lieutenant back and chalk the incident up to his wild imagination and having nothing to do for two months when he noticed the top email was flashing 'new' and read '_Urz says hello!_'. He opened the message and the face of large, happy varren appeared on the screen staring right at whatever camera had been used to take the image. After a moment a dialogue box opened at the bottom of the screen and a single question appeared: _What color are Ms. vas Normandy's eyes?_

He couldn't suppress a small smirk as he keyed in the answer. The dialogue box vanished and after a momentary delay a message appeared in its place.

_From: Your Friend, LT_

_Hello, John. I can only hope you're doing well. Despite my many contacts the Alliance has impressively tight security where you're being held. I couldn't leave you cut off completely, though. You always came back for us, never hesitated to risk everything. So I can take a small risk to get you a message to remind you that you're not alone._

_There is talk of the evidence you provided on dozens of channels, but I've seen little real movement. Those of us that know what's coming have been doing what we can despite that fact. You might be interested to learn that 'someone' has sold thanix cannon technology to the quarians and the volus, while another anonymous source provided cyclonic shield technology to the turians and salarians. Leveling the playing field... and providing a substantial amount of credits to help the right causes._

_I know you want to know about everyone, but even my resources aren't limitless. Garrus went back to Palaven, I know, and Grunt went to join Wrex on Tuchanka. I've heard rumors that Zaeed is causing all sorts of trouble in the Terminus systems, but not his usual kind. Tali... Tali returned to the Migrant Fleet. She was still angry the last time we spoke, I wish there had been more time. I know she understands what you did in her heart, possibly more than anyone, but... I'm just telling you things you already know. We'll do everything we can. Even if everyone ignores us, we won't stop trying. We have hope. You gave us that. Now let us keep it alive for you._

_Stay safe, John._

_PS: Don't worry about the datapad. It will erase itself after you close this message._

Shepard exited the message and sat the pad on the desk, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. It was something at least, something to keep him going. His friends were still out there, continuing the fight that he couldn't while stuck in this damn room. Every day he worried that something would go wrong. Together he knew they could accomplish almost anything... but now they were scattered across the galaxy.

Shepard stood and walked over to the small window that looked out over the city, a forest of glass and steel stretching for miles. He knew his people, knew they were all strong individuals. But he couldn't help but think back to their final gathering, glasses raised. Or the moments after. Garrus had been resigned but hadn't argued with him. There was an understanding between the two of them that was something that could only shared between old soldiers. Most the others had accepted his decision as well, even if both Grunt and Jack had questioned his sanity. Tali... Tali had made up for it with enough anger and disappointment for all of them. He closed his eyes against the memory, but it wasn't enough. It never was.

_They stood in the airlock of the Normandy aboard the Citadel, an awkward silence hanging in the air. The gathering had long since ended, people going their separate ways after saying goodbye. Only a skeleton crew remained behind to return to Earth with him. Good people that had volunteered to turn themselves over to the Alliance as well. When she finally spoke her voice was incredulous._

_"After all we've been through? You're going to go back and let them use your as some kind of... of sacrifice? To appease the Batarians of all people?"_

_"Tali, I killed thousands. Hundreds of thousands of people," he said quietly. "The Alliance will do everything it can to prevent war with the Batarians. I won't make everyone aboard the Normandy a fugitive just to outrun my fate. Spectre status... Reapers... none of that will change what happened out there."_

_"It wasn't your fault! You can't... you can't just-"_

_Shepard smiled sadly. "I did what I had to do, just like I always have. Just like I'm doing now... I can't tell you what will happen. I wish I could."_

_He reached out, trying to comfort her but she stiffened under his hands, pulling away. The veil that he had so often slipped his hands beneath in the last few weeks turned away, looking out at the traffic milling through the Citadel's docks for a long moment. Finally Tali spoke._

_"You said you'd always come back to me..."_

_Before he could respond she was gone, striding out of the airlock and into the crowd, head held low, shoulders shaking. And all he could do was issue a silent curse at whatever gods or fates had pushed him down his current path. One day maybe she could forgive him if he ever had the fortune to see her face again._

A knock interrupted his thoughts once more, but this time the door didn't open immediately. Looking over his shoulder Shepard frowned.

"Enter."

The door slid open to reveal another Alliance Lieutenant, but one he was familiar with, an olive skinned soldier of impressive physique and a few tattoos he was sure Jack would have liked to have taken a look at. The younger man saluted.

"Commander."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Pretty sure you're not supposed to call me that anymore, Vega. Or salute me."

"Not supposed to do a lot of things, sir," Vega replied. "There's another meeting about the Collector base scheduled to happen in fifteen, they've requested your presence to answer some more questions. I've been ordered to escort you down."

"They're still afraid I'll run off, huh?" he asked.

"Can't say I would blame you, sir. After everything you've done you don't deserve this."

Shepard sighed and motioned forward the marine to proceed. "Everything I've done is how I ended up here, Vega. I just hope it was all worth it."

He glanced once more at the datapad before the door shut behind him. It had to be worth it.

* * *

><p><em>Five months later...<em>

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy stared at a console, willing it to provide some information. Some shred of evidence or compelling argument. A glimmer of hope. Instead it merely stared back, the glowing orange display unwavering and silent. It was at times like this that Shepard always came up with some crazy plan or inspired speech to change what seemed to be destiny's inevitable course. Her eyes stung, remembering comforting hands and a strong voice would tell her that she could do this.

"And now there's no one left to save us from ourselves..." she whispered into the darkness of the cabin.

It was one of the finest on the ship, more space than most quarians ever dreamed of having and far from the hum of the engines or labored hiss of air recyclers. It was quiet. Quiet and cold. Always too quiet to sleep.

* * *

><p>"You should be happy they even gave us this much. This is still millions of credits invested for what really sounds like a crazy story."<p>

"Upgraded sensor buoys won't stop a Reaper, dammit! It's like trying to use a pebble to stop a river," Garrus growled in agitation, slamming his fist on the table. "We should be building dreadnoughts as fast as they can mine the damn metal."

The other turian shrugged. He was young, younger that Garrus had been back when he'd first met Shepard aboard the Citadel. It felt like a lifetime ago. While the young officer had been extremely helpful in the past months with their 'special project' he was still naive enough to think the chain of command had all the answers.

"You know the Treaty prevents-"

"Spirits take the damn Treaty! It won't mean anything if the people that signed it are all dead."

"Command simply isn't going to buy into that until they see one of these Reapers for themselves."

Garrus sighed and ran his fingers along the scars that covered the right side of his face. Earned learning about the harsh reality of the galaxy. Now he could only hope that his people wouldn't have to learn the same lessons so brutally.

"They will... but by then it might be too late."

* * *

><p>"Shadow Broker, new reports from the Illium operatives are available."<p>

"Glyph, how many times have I updated your code to make you not call me Shadow Broker?"

"Apologies, Dr. T'Soni. I have deleted the offending line of code."

"Thank you."

Her new office was antiquated compared to the facilities available aboard the Shadow Broker's secret vessel but Cerberus had seen fit to ruin that. It hadn't been entirely unexpected, after all it had been partly Cerberus resources that had aided her and Shepard in defeating the previous Shadow Broker. All the security in the world wouldn't have prevented their eventual discovery with the information available. She could only smile grimly at the thought that at least it had cost them a cruiser.

Pushing the memory aside the asari looked to more pressing matters. "What about our operatives in the Hegemony?"

"Little information is available. Only twenty percent of assets in the area are providing regular reports."

"Keep me updated, then. The galaxy is holding its breath and it doesn't even know it," she said to no one in particular.

"Of course. Update. Message received. Priority, Sender: Admiral Anderson."

Liara arched a brow, a gesture she had unconsciously picked up from a certain human.

"Show me."

* * *

><p>"Payment has been transferred to your account, Ms. Goto. Along with the 'bonus' requested," the voice said, warped and distorted by the security programs that protected both of their anonymity. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in revealing why you need this information?"<p>

"Not in the slightest. Ta-ta!" she responded cheerfully before terminating the connection.

After a few minutes of reviewing that the data was indeed genuine the thief initiated a transfer of the actual monetary funds, bouncing the money between a dozen different accounts until it settled in half a dozen smaller accounts with no relation to one another. No reason to get sloppy now. Kasumi Goto had a reputation to uphold, after all, and now wasn't the time to let appearances slip.

She shook her head at the silliness of her line of work considering what she knew was coming. Would her nameless client get much pleasure out of the ancient Van Gogh she had appropriated from yet another private collection? Or would it become just another casualty in the coming war? It didn't really matter in the end but it was something she couldn't help but think about. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. Damn Shepard... she used to do this for the thrill, the pleasure of the successful score. He was a bad influence, he had her worried about 'the big picture'.

Her omni-tool beeped, dumping a batch of messages that had also been routed through myriad security network, only to frown when she saw nothing from Tali or even Garrus. So much for keeping in touch. Six months ago she would have hacked their accounts and set them up with a mischievous computer daemon to make them regret their lapse in writing. Now she just accepted it and checked into the next job.

Being responsible was a real drag.

* * *

><p>The loud thud echoed through the cavern like the beat of an enormous drum. Wreav staggered back with a loud snarl and shook his head vigorously. For a brief moment Wrex thought that his idiot brother would actually work up the courage to challenge him. Finally he muttered darkly and stalked off. No such luck.<p>

"You should have just destroyed him," Grunt said bluntly.

"Hrmph. And that's why I'm in charge of the Clans and you're not, pup. Politics. You have to beat them, but you can't just kill them. They might be useful later," Wrex replied, returning to his stone throne. "Wreav is an idiot but he's an idiot with followers."

"Destroy them too."

The elder krogan sighed raggedly and rubbed at the edge of his head plate. "Appealing thought, but no. Shepard is going to need every soldier he can get for his war. Even the stupid ones."

Grunt merely shrugged, clearly already bored with the talk of political strategy. "Then what now?"

"Now we prepare. I've got a source with the salarians, something big is going down and it involves us, something that might involve the Genophage."

"Salarians. All that sneaking and spying. Doubt they'll be interested in cooperating. What then?"

Wrex chuckled darkly. "Heh heh... now them, them we can destroy."

* * *

><p><em>Present<em>

Shepard snapped awake with a gasp, gripping the stiff sheets tightly. It only took a few moments for his breathing to return to normal. The sudden jerk into wakefulness wasn't unfamiliar. He'd experienced with varying frequency ever since that fateful day on Eden Prime when he had pulled Ashley away from the Prothean beacon. At night the vision would return, all screams and blood. Fire engulfing entire worlds. Ruthless machines harvesting life like so much wheat.

Swinging his legs over the edge and sitting up the one time spectre rubbed his eyes, starting a daily routine that seemed to blur together more with every passing day. And each of those days he wondered if he had made the right decision to return... or if he'd thrown away one of the few good things in his life for nothing. Damn the Alliance. Damn the Council... damn politicians everywhere.

Within a few minutes he'd dressed and made at least some effort to make himself look presentable. The uniform, or what passed for one, was a simple service outfit without any rank or name insignia. It had taken Shepard a month to get that in the beginning and only then after pointing out that he hadn't exactly brought much with him when he surrendered. Buttoning the last button on his shirt he looked out the window and sighed.

A second later his door rang with a firm knock and opened immediately. Standing in the entryway was an old friend, one he'd seen too little of in the past years. Shepard gave one of the few genuine smiles he had left.

"Admiral Anderson... it's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Shepard. But I'm not here for a social visit I'm afraid."

He examined the man's face, the smile fading from his own lips. For a soldier of thirty years experience Anderson was in excellent shape, but the stresses of the past few years had taken their toll. More gray had crept into his hair and his dark skin was creased with worry lines. The look in his eyes now said everything Shepard needed to know.

"It's time."

Anderson inclined his head ever so slightly. "It is. There's no confirmation yet, but we both know. The committee wants to see you."

"We knew this day would come," Shepard said with a sigh. "We're not ready. Not by a long shot."

"Then we'll just have to do what we can with what we've got."

He nodded, gesturing for Anderson to lead.

"Let's go see what the end of the world looks like, Admiral."

* * *

><p><em>So, this is just a rather short intro the the beginning of Razor's Edge<em>'s _final chapter. I know a lot of you requested the continuation of this story and I appreciate all of it. I make no promises of update speed or final length, but either way I felt like the story needed to be told._

_On a related note I'd be interested in picking up someone to beta read these little buggers to catch my notorious inability to self edit. So if you're interested in the job drop me a line._


	2. Chapter 1: Earth Fall

Chapter 1, Earth Fall

Voices, full of uncertainty and fear, echoed throughout the room. Everyone was asking questions that no one had answers to. No one-except Shepard. That is why they had summoned in him some vain hope that he could prove their fears wrong, that the insane warnings that he had given were just that; the ramblings of a man unhinged by a long history of struggle and violence. Delusion was the final refuge of the prideful.

Sitting on that same raised dais as before, one of the admirals noticed them enter the room and spoke. The righteous conviction from his tribunal was gone, replaced with poorly disguised fear.

"Admiral Anderson. Shepard. We lost contact with Arcturus station half an hour ago... attempts to contact Admiral Hackett or the Fifth Fleet have failed."

"Do we have any reports from out scouts? Anything at all?" Anderson asked.

"Nothing. The only information we have is from long range observation buoys. They confirmed the presence of something large, a fleet maybe. We need to determine what we're facing."

"You know exactly what it is," Shepard said. "The Reapers are here."

"But-"

"We have no confirmation!"

Panic and confusion. Three years to prepare and it almost seemed as if he had never stopped Saren. A dozen voices, ranking officers to technicians all speaking at once immediately put the room into a dull roar. Finally one of the other admirals slammed a datapad down on the desk, snapping everyone's attention to him. His face was ashen but Shepard at his gave him credit for maintaining his composure.

"Quiet! We just lost contact with Luna base..."

Even Anderson looked surprised, glancing over to him with widened eyes. "Already? By god they're fast... the Sword fleets..."

"Didn't even slow them down."

That was when he felt the vibration, a deep, resonating hum that sent his bones on edge. Outside the gleaming white of the cityscape darkened as a shadow fell across it. Shepard felt a primal urge: fear of a larger predator, fear of seeing death in person. The unmistakable form of a Reaper dropped out of the sky, landing with a force that shook the foundations of the building, its bizarre form like a twisted sea creature or spider that came from the depths of space. Cries of panic filled the room. They became even more acute when there was a brilliant flash of red and a beam of molten metal shot out, streaking towards the building.

"Everyone down!" Shepard roared.

It was a futile gesture, even as he dove for cover. A split second later the room exploded in fire and debris, screams cut off in an instant of brutality. He felt his feet leave the floor, the massive table that the admirals had sat in judgement at six months before streaking overhead like a missile, barely missing his head. For a brief second he blacked out.

"Come on, Shepard, we've got to move!"

The former Spectre blinked and pushed himself up, ignoring the ringing in his ears. Anderson was helping him up, covered in soot and scratches but otherwise having survived the blast miraculously well. Others in the room were not so lucky. Many had been simply vaporized by the blast, while a few had been killed by the force of the explosion, bodies twisted at unnatural angles and eyes open but unseeing.

Finally he managed to make it to his feet, wiping at his mouth and spitting at the taste of ash. "I'm alright. Lead on... to... whereever. Hell, I don't even know."

"I do," Anderson said confidently and opened his omni-tool. "Lieutenant Commander Williams, are you receiving me?"

The comm was filled with static but the voice was familiar through it all. "We have you, Admiral. We're already on our way."

"Ashley?"

"Looks like its my turn to ride in to the rescue. We're on our way, Admiral," she responded.

"Understood, over and out. Here, I'm not taking any chances. Hope you haven't forgotten how to use one of these after six months of soft beds and regular meals," Anderson said, producing a pistol from his back and tossing it over.

He caught the gun easily and thumbed the activation switch. Standard Alliance issue, M-3 Predator. It was a simple and familiar weapon. A quick once over showed it was unmodified and had a full thermal clip. Shepard arched a brow at the older man but didn't ask why he just happened to be carrying a spare pistol even as they began to pick their way through the wreckage, skirting the outside of the destroyed building.

Once they were clear of the smoke and rubble they were greeted by a sight filled with even more devastation. Reapers, massive and malevolent, stalked among the city like the skyscrapers were a great metal forest and they the apex predators. In truth, maybe they were. That same resonating groan echoed seconds before another burst of ruby light struck out to annihilate yet another unfortunate target. The city was already covered in a thickening blanket of black smoke. Below them he could hear explosions in the street. Weapons fire lit up the sky in every direction as Alliance forces returned fire. Shepard smiled grimly. Let it never be said that humans went out quietly.

"Even believing you all this time... it still doesn't prepare you to see this," the admiral said, picking his way through a still smoldering office.

"Nothing can. I just wish..."

"Don't think about 'might have been', Shepard. The only reason this didn't happen three years ago when we were even less prepared is because you stopped Saren."

The former Spectre sighed. "But did I buy the galaxy three more years just for the same thing to happen anyway?"

Anderson turned on his heel and slapped a hand on Shepard's shoulder, fire in his eyes. "Don't you give me that, son. I've known you since you were a cocky young officer looking for trouble. You've done more than anyone should ever have asked of you, but you're not a quitter. You didn't stop in the hunt for Saren. You didn't even stop when the damn Collectors blew you out the sky. I'll be damned if I'm going to listen to you give up now! Do you understand me, soldier?"

By sheer reflex he felt his body tense into attention and he nodded sharply. It was almost like he'd been slapped in the face, but after six months of mind numbing captivity it was exactly what he needed.

"Yes, sir!"

"That's better," Anderson said, a tired smile on his face. "This war isn't over yet. Now let's get to the Normandy and show the Reapers that Earth has plenty of fight left in her."

He returned the expression. "Lead on, Admiral. And you're right. This isn't over yet."

"Over here, this door should cut through the upper offices and get us near the water way. Probably the best area for a hot pick up."

The attack had disabled the power to most of the building, back up generators were attempting to sputter to life but the results were less than spectacular as evidenced by the closed sliding doors. Grabbing the double doors Shepard grunted and pushed hard, forcing them wider while Anderson pulled on one side. Clearly they'd never been meant to operate without power, a stupid oversight in retrospect.

"There we go, almost-"

An inhuman hiss cut the admiral off and Shepard barely had time to jerk back as a dull gray, taloned hand thrust through the doors. The thing screeched and lunged against the doors, trying to force its body through the gap. Anderson fell backwards as he let go, the door shutting on the husk even as Shepard was yanking the pistol from his belt. A single crack echoed in the large room. The husk slumped lifelessly.

"Son of a bitch... they've already got husks on the ground?" Shepard growled, adrenaline giving him an additional burst of strength to shove the doors open long enough for the two of them to get through.

"Apparently so. We need to move. No such thing as one husk," Anderson said.

He chuckled. "Glad to see someone was reading my reports at least."

"The committee might not have listened worth a damn but that doesn't mean we've been completely lax. You being stuck under 'house arrest' has left you out of the loop," the admiral explained as they worked their way through the ruined building, keeping a careful watch for movement. "Hackett, myself, and other high ranking officers that couldn't ignore the evidence have been doing what we can. The Sword Fleets have been on additional training maneuvers and readiness drills, I've been routing additional supply requests for Earth and the colonies every chance I get."

"At least admiralship seems to be suiting you. Sometimes I wish you'd stuck with the Council appointment. Sure could have used that kind of pull."

"Maybe, but I did what I had to do. I was never cut out for politics and when push comes to shove I wasn't willing to preserve the position at the expense of other concerns."

"I understand that much. A man does what he has to do," Shepard agreed. "I would have liked us to be waiting for the Reapers with the entire fleet, but it's still good to hear we've made at least some preparations."

"We won't run out of bullets and rations, and Hackett pushed hard to get that quantum entanglement communication tech installed on as many ships and facilities as possible. So if nothing else at least some good came of turning the Normandy over to Alliance control."

"Maybe... I was afraid they'd tear the girl up looking for Cerberus bugs and technology," Shepard said.

Anderson grunted, lifting a fallen bookshelf and shoving it out of the way of the next doorway. Dusting off his hands he laughed. "No worries there, she's still in good condition, though I understand they've made some modifications. That ship is too damn effective to take out of commission permanently, especially after those upgrades you installed."

They found their way blocked by an utterly destroyed floor, but he could see the waterfront through the shattered windows. Further conversation was delayed as they jogged to the edge, looking down. It was a good six or seven foot drop, but nothing too dangerous. Glancing at Anderson, they both jumped at the same time, hitting the concrete below with a practiced roll. The admiral flexed his shoulder on standing, but seemed none the worse for the wear.

"Good to see you haven't forgotten how to take a fall."

Anderson laughed. "Same for you. You didn't forget that back in the day I was originally up for your job, right?"

"Never. You'd have made a hell of a Spectre."

"Maybe. But clearly that was meant to be your achievement. Let me see if I can get a better signal," Anderson said, tapping at his omni-tool. "Williams, do you read?"

There was a burst of static and a voice that could have been Ashley's saying Anderson's name, but it was difficult to make anything out. The building shook as a Reaper stalked out into the water, blasting away at gunships that fired on it in futility. He was about to suggest finding some way to boost the signal when there was an echoing boom and a bright flash. The Reaper actually staggered slightly, one of its insect like legs moving back to steady itself.

"Jesus! That crazy bastard actually brought a dreadnought into the atmosphere," Anderson said as the Everest Class warship fired its main gun once more. The projectile's contrail streaked across the sky, slamming into the Reaper and sending another shockwave washing across the surrounding area.

"Who the hell would do that?"

"Captain Jacobi? Maybe…I don't know. I can't make out the markings from here. Whomever it is they've gotten the Reaper's attention... damn, move! Get into cover, it's going to-"

Despite the dreadnought's efforts the Reaper appeared mostly undamaged aside from some carbon scoring and a crackling in its barriers. A second later the now familiar report of the Reaper's main gun was heard and the ruby beam shot out to strike the hovering ship. For a brief second the dreadnought's shields held... and then shattered, the blast piercing through her hull like a spear. And then an explosion far greater than even the considerable impact of the ship's mass drivers turned the sky white, washing over them both with heat and a roar of sound. Shepard felt the ledge under his feet giving way but could do nothing about it but tuck his arms in and roll.

For the second time in less than an hour his ears were ringing. Shepard pulled himself to his feet and tried to clear his head, looking around for Anderson. The older man slid down the now mostly collapsed roof to land next to him, wiping dust from his face.

"Damn, took out a dreadnought like it was nothing. The explosion rattled everything, I can't raise the Normandy at all now. We need to find a dedicated radio so I can call in our coordinates to the Normandy."

Shepard looked at the Reaper, turning away from the smoldering wreckage of the dreadnought and turning its attention back to the cityscape. "We can't stand up to them one on one... we have to keep mobile, it's our only advantage."

"One more lesson we need to get out of here to pass on," Anderson said.

"I saw a gunship go down a few blocks over, on the pier. Assuming it didn't completely break up on impact it should have a radio good enough to cut through the interference."

"That's our destination, then."

The farther they went the more the cityscape turned into rubble. More often than not streets were cut off by fallen buildings and thus far they hadn't encountered any other survivors. Those first few blasts had devastating the local area and those that had survived immediately vacated the area. Cutting through an alleyway they heard the sound of weapons fire, close this time.

"Let's move," Shepard said, breaking into a run with the admiral right behind.

Two soldiers were pressed against the remains of a stone wall, firing over their heads at approaching husks. Another man was laying a short distance away being tended by a medic. Even from this distance he could see the red stain covering the man's hands that were clasped against his stomach. One of the husks was taken off its feet by a burst of fire but there were a dozen more to take its place.

One of the husks leapt over the wall as the pair cleared the last pile of rubble. Talons lashed out and ripped the assault rifle from the soldier's hands, a cry of terror coming from the pinned man. Shepard gritted his teeth and reached out, feeling his biotics flare. A wave of dark energy surged forth, gripping the husk and sending it flying back against the wall with an indelicate crunch. He smiled when he didn't feel a headache follow. Six months with nothing to do had at least given him time to practice, seeing as how the biotic amp Cerberus had installed during his 'resurrection' wasn't something that could be removed.

"Look alive, soldier! You're not done yet!" Shepard barked at the stunned man.

He tossed the young soldier his pistol and hooked the discarded Avenger with his foot, kicking the weapon into the air and tucking it into his shoulder just in time catch another husk coming over the wall with a burst in the chest.

The one he'd just saved blinked twice before scrambling to his feet. "S-Shepard?"

"That's me, now cover the left flank. Don't use the buildings for cover, husks will climb right over it. Center of mass until they get close and then aim for the head!"

"Sir!"

"Now that's the Shepard I remember," Anderson said from behind him even as settled into a firing stance. The pistol in his hands cracked twice and another of the charging husks' heads snapped back before it crumpled to the ground.

He merely gave the admiral a small smile and turned back to the matter at hand. The Reaper abominations were sprinting forward still, that raspy howl audible even over the roar of weapons and the footsteps of the Reapers as they marched through the city. The two armed soldiers fired with renewed confidence; it wasn't pinpoint accuracy but at least it wasn't the desperate spraying from before. He drew a bead on the nearest husk with his own rifle, squeezing out measured, short bursts that quickly cut it down.

"They're fracking everywhere!" the other soldier growled, slapping a new thermal into his rifle.

"Just keep firing!" Shepard ordered.

Half a dozen more fell under the hail of fire, but they were getting closer. Anderson took a few at the knees just to slow their advance. He dropped his sights onto one that was bounding over the rubble straight for him only to hear a click and the rifle to hiss, venting excess heat before ejecting a smoldering thermal clip. It was his turn to find a husk sailing through the air at him.

Unlike an inexperienced young corporal, though, Shepard knew exactly how to deal with husks. The Reaper creations were horrific and relentless, but they were mindless cybernetic zombies without a hint of tactics or skill. He dropped the rifle and caught the beast's outstretched arms, using its own momentum to roll with the impact and then throw it to the ground. The husk screeched and lashed out, claws raking along the side of his cheek. He clenched his teeth in pain but didn't stop driving his knee into its chest and bringing his fist down wreathed in raw biotic power. With a powerful jerk the husk's head twisted sideways with a snap and it went limp. Behind him a few more shots rang out before finally it was only distant explosions and heavy breathing to be heard.

"You alright, Shepard?" Anderson asked.

"Yea, I'll make it. The rest of them?"

"We're okay, sir," the soldier that he'd saved replied, saluting them both. "Corporal Franks, sir. I thought we were screwed. Never thought I'd be getting saved by an admiral and Commander Shepard."

"Just Shepard now," he corrected.

The other soldier, resting his rifle on his shoulder, shook his head. "Brass might have canned you, but some of the rank and file know you were fighting the good fight. You'll always be Commander to us."

He couldn't help but feel a slight warmth at the statement and gratefully returned the men's salute. "Thank you for that, Corporal. Now we're looking for a downed bird so that we can radio for pick up. Have you seen her?"

Franks snorted. "Seen her? We were in her. The four of us are the only ones that made it. She's just down the next block at the edge of the water. It's crawling down there though, sir. And not just with these... husks. There's bigger ones, with guns sticking right out of their arms. Freaky looking things."

"We always knew the Reapers hadn't show us all of their tricks yet," Anderson said.

"I don't care if they're giant robot krogan, we need that radio. Sit tight, Corporal. We'll have you out of here in no time. Here Anderson, trade me."

He tossed the rifle at the older man, taking the offered pistol in return. When Anderson gave him a questioning look he could only shrugged. "Unless you've sprouted biotic abilities in the last two years too, I figure you need that more than I do."

"Point taken, let's move. If we don't radio the Normandy soon this airspace is going to be too hostile for any kind of pick up."

The pair quickly made their way down the ruined embankment until they saw the still smoldering wreckage of the gunship. Free of the tall buildings they had a panoramic view of the unfolding battle. In the distance they could see the towering forms of Reapers walking among the city, burning everything in their path. Fighters and gunships filled the air, chasing the same round fighter craft that EDI had termed 'oculi' during their encounter with the Collectors. An ever-thickening haze of smoke rose from the destruction. Movement much closer caught his eye, though.

"They weren't kidding. Those are new... and hideous," Shepard said even as the new breed of husk noticed them.

Mouths opened wide, the enemies screamed in unison. The things were misshapen beasts with a quartet of glowing blue eyes, twice the bulk of a man and covered in bulbous growths that leaned to the left. Where their right arms should be was instead a barrel of a weapon that was melded into their bodies. Shepard and Anderson both ducked in unison as the weapons glowed briefly, spitting out a heavy volume of fire.

"Their faces, Shepard," Anderson said from his position crouched behind the wall. "Four eyes, one set under the other?"

He frowned. "Batarians. They hit them already and we didn't even know it."

"Either they were too proud to call for help... or they never even got the chance."

"I've never been the biggest fan of the batarians but I'd never wish that on anyone," Shepard said. "Come on. All we can do for them now is put them down."

The admiral nodded curtly and rose from cover, rifle already beating out a staccato rhythm. Under his watchful fire Shepard rolled from cover and lined up a shot, feathering the trigger of his pistol to put three rounds between the first of the creature's numerous eyes. It had barely hit the earth before he lashed out with his biotics once more, reaching down into that same dark feeling he'd had what felt like a lifetime ago. His body pulsed with energy and his lips curled into a snarl. Tendrils seemed to streak across the space between Shepard and his assailants, lancing them with crackling strands.

Rifle fire died down as Anderson stood from cover. The creatures screeched for a moment before the energy seemed to tighten around them and the sound of cracking bone was heard. The remaining three collapsed with wet thumps. Glancing back he couldn't help but notice his former captain's surprised expression. One laced with not more than a little concern.

"I'm not one to complain about effective use of force but I've never seen anything like that before. It's like you tried to pull them in every direction at once."

He was already moving towards the crash site as he spoke, not looking back. "Samara, the Justicar that served with me during the mission against the Collectors, called it a technique known as 'reaving'. Something they didn't teach most of the asari. Old, effective. Unpleasant."

"How the hell did you learn it? It doesn't sound like something the asari would just hand out."

"I didn't learn it. Cerberus' messing around with me after... the Normandy's destruction had some side effects," Shepard explained, trying to sound as detached as possible. "I had a strong emotional reaction in a combat situation and just lashed out. What you just saw was the more refined version of my first taste of biotics. Back then I only managed to hit one enemy and it nearly made me pass out."

The former Spectre jumped over the last pile of rubble before the pier, circling around to gain access to the gunship. Behind him Anderson's voice was that same confident tone but he could hear the note of caution.

"I'm not going to pass judgement, Shepard. But seeing your face... you looked downright murderous. I've seen men look like that before. It rarely turned out well."

He shrugged. "It's not something I've learned to enjoy using. I have to latch onto those same emotional feelings to get the effect. Something psychological, I guess."

"And what emotions are those?"

"Anger. Desperation... fear. Hate."

Before the admiral could formulate a response they had located their prize. Shepard ducked inside, shaking his head sadly at the awkwardly twisted forms of the pilot and unlucky passengers. They were free from war, at least. Free from the hell that Earth was about to become. He did his best to ignore the smell of charred flesh and bile as he yanked the radio free of its housing, dragging it outside.

"Here... see if you can patch in."

Anderson knelt, working his omni-tool until it finally gave a hopeful chime. "There we go! Normandy, this is Admiral Anderson. Come in, Normandy!"

They both held their breath for a few agonizing moments. And then the comm lit up.

"Admiral!" Ashley yelled. "Where are you? This place is chaos! We've got strike teams moving in to try and hold key areas while we evacuate but the damn Reapers... they're cutting our boys apart."

"I'm sending you our coordinates now, Williams. We need an immediate extraction, I get the feeling we're about to have company," the admiral said, looking to the sky.

Hundreds of burning contrails drew burning red lines through the haze. Some were the disintegrating remains of Alliance warships, the first casualties in a war that already seemed a foregone conclusion. Others were smaller and faster, impacting across the city like an unholy rain. One roared just overhead and slammed into the pier a few hundred meters away. The smoke cleared quickly, revealing a teeming mass of husks and more of the Reaper's newest nightmares.

"We've got to hold until the Normandy can reach us."

"Same gameplan. You provide overwatch, I'll thin them out," Shepard said.

No more words were spoken. The fire was heavier than before, with at least a dozen of the larger creatures firing away at their position while the all too familiar variety of common husk charged forward. Shepard did his best to take out a few of the gunners, but soon it was all he and Anderson could do to keep their heads down and thin out the fast moving husks before they reached the defensive line.

"I'm running low!" Anderson shouted over the gunfire.

"Makes two of us!"

He sent a pulsing shockwave out to knock back the next swarm of husks, scattering them. It was only a momentary respite. Some remained down but others had already crawled back to their feet. Shepard emptied his last thermal clip to send one of the ranged husks tumbling into the waters.

"Normandy! We need that evac now!"

"It's just biotics and a knife now. Where the hell is our back up?" Shepard demanded.

Another familiar voice responded. "Someone call for room service? I've got one big freaking gun for the room with all the husks!"

The ground shook as a powerful shot slammed into the mass of husks, vaporizing most and tearing others apart. A few in the front ranks survived, only to suddenly be riddled with a volley of fire from their left flank as Alliance shuttles flew into view, soldiers on mounted door guns tearing into them. Shepard couldn't help but smile.

"I'm always amazed to say this, but it's good to hear your voice, Joker."

"You know you love me, especially when I blow up Reapers."

The Normandy swooped overhead. Pride swelled in his chest at her sleek lines and the name emblazoned so proudly on her hull, now in striking Alliance blue he noticed. She may have been remade by Cerberus and scarred by war but that ship would always be everything that was right with the universe as far as he was concerned. It was home.

"Time to get out here, sir," Shepard said as Joker brought the ship around, the lower cargo door opening.

Beneath his feet the ground shook again. He looked behind him to see the silhouette that was both familiar and different at the same time. It was a Reaper, but smaller, though likely it was only slightly less deadly. Shuttles zoomed back and forth, picking up survivors even as another rain of pods fell. Husks screamed and weapons fire erupted not far away. He could see another pack of creatures sprinting in their direction.

Joker piped up. "He's right, Admiral! I can't hover here for long or one of those Reapers is going to aim that big damn gun at us!"

"I'm not going."

His head snapped back. "What?"

"This war has just begun and if there's going to be an Earth left to save someone has to teach the people that are left how to fight a war," Anderson said. "That's my job."

"If you're staying then so am I."

Anderson shook his head. "No, Shepard. You've got to walk a different path, the one you started when they made you the first human Spectre. Go out there and tell them. Tell them all that you were right. That's an order."

"I'm not in the Alliance anymore, remember? You can't give me orders!" Shepard said firmly.

The older man's hand reached out and snatched his wrist before Shepard could react, slapping something cool with hard edges into his hand. Anderson fixed him with a stare that brooked no argument and spoke volumes that could never be expressed in words. His mouth set in a grim line before finally softening into a faint, tired smile.

"Consider yourself reinstated... Commander."

Shepard looked down at the tags in his hand and back to the admiral.

"Now go out there and show the galaxy how it's done. We need the rest of the galaxy to stand together if we're going to beat the Reapers. Make us proud, son."

He snapped a crisp salute.

"Aye aye, Captain."

The two soldiers turned and ran towards their respective duties. Anderson towards the shuttles that would lead to a long war for the birthplace of humanity. Shepard towards the ship he called home, and a war that spanned the galaxy.

* * *

><p><em>Completing the intro to the story proper, so the real story can be gin. I'd like to thank my two new beta readers<em> _PliableFoe and JGalt91 who have already proven invaluable. If you notice a (staggering) amount less errors in this chapter it's due to their editing skills._


	3. Chapter 2: Fight Another Day

Chapter 2, Fight Another Day

A strong grip held his upper arm and pulled him into the cargo bay. The Normandy moved beneath him, already pulling away from the ground before the door had even closed. Shepard looked up to see a familiar face, close cropped hair and tanned skin. He was even larger in combat armor than Shepard was used to seeing him.

"Vega?"

The young soldier smiled in acknowledgement. "Reporting for duty, sir. Welcome aboard."

"Should have known you'd have gotten yourself mixed up in this. The old girl does seem to attract the misfits."

"Never thought I'd be the one on the Normandy swooping in to save you. And I'm not sure how I feel about being called 'old girl'."

He turned rapidly on his heel at the feminine voice. Ashley Williams hadn't changed much except for quite a few promotions since they had first met on Eden Prime, though he noticed her dark hair was loose and long. Maybe she had changed. Horizon had certainly been a surprise, even if she'd apologized after the fact.

"Can't say I expected it either, Ash," he replied neutrally. "Glad to see the Normandy was in good hands."

Ashley arched one dark brow. "Was?"

He held up his tags for a moment before slipping them around his neck. "Seems like the Normandy and I were always destined to see this through together. Only fitting, we both came back from the dead together."

"Well it's... good to have you back. Sir."

"Glad to be back. Now we've got work to do," Shepard said, activating his omni-tool. "Joker?"

The pilot replied immediately. "Shepard! Give me a destination, because we are currently flying in very unfriendly skies."

"Take us out. Head for the relay," the former Spectre ordered sadly.

"Aye aye."

Vega looked shocked, while Ashley maintained only mild surprise. He could tell that she had already done the math as well and come to the same conclusion Anderson had. The battle for Earth had been lost before it began and the real war would begin as the survivors mounted their resistance against the Reaper occupation - a delaying action at best.

"Commander, you can't be serious? What about Admiral Anderson?" the lieutenant demanded.

"Anderson knows what he's doing. We've got a job to do and it isn't one that we can accomplish fighting a losing battle on Earth. Vega, I need you on top of the armory. There isn't going to be an Alliance resupply anytime soon. Tell me what we've got to work with."

"I-"

"Move, soldier!"

The lieutenant snapped a salute and headed away, deeper into the cargo bay. He was about to tell Vega that he was heading the wrong way when Ashley stopped him.

"Armory is down here now, Shepard. The Normandy is an Alliance ship and unlike Cerberus we know where to put all the guns. That place is not right next to the CIC," she said.

"Point. The SR-2 had some amazing design specifications but there were some things that never made any sense. Thanks for stopping me before I made an ass out of myself."

"I'll consider us even for you not mentioning Horizon yet," Ashley replied drolly.

He sighed. "Figured it would be rude, what with you saving my ass."

Motioning for her to follow he headed towards the elevator. In his head Shepard was trying to remember outposts in the Sol system, anywhere that might have survivors if the Reapers hadn't considered them a significant enough threat. Maybe they could get a few more out. Though where they would go he had no idea. Where was safe? How far had the Reapers advanced? How widespread were their forces - or how numerous for that matter?

"Shepard?"

He shook his head and looked over at Ashley, stepping into the lift. "What?"

"I said I'm okay with postponing the awkward talking until later if you are. But seems like you've already moved on anyways."

Any response was interrupted by a synthesized female tone and the appearance of a simple blue hologram. Despite himself he felt a smile tug at his lips.

"Commander Shepard. Admiral Hackett is attempting to contact the Normandy via the quantum entanglement communicator."

"EDI! You're still with us, good. I was afraid the Alliance techs would have tried to yank you out of the Normandy for study, or worse," he said in relief. "Tell Hackett I'm on my way."

"It is good to hear your voice as well, Commander. As I said when you first proposed turning yourself in, I am the Normandy. We cannot be separated. Besides, I have been more than capable of fooling a few Alliance techs."

Ashley was looking back and forth between him and the console in bewilderment. "What the hell?"

"Long story. Ashley, meet EDI. EDI, this is Gunnery - I mean Lieutenant Commander Williams."

"Hello Lieutenant Commander, it is good to be able to speak freely. Hopefully we can converse further at a later date. In the meantime could you please show Shepard to the war room as I believe he is not familiar with the changes to my layout," the AI responded. "Commander, we have cleared Earth's upper atmosphere and the Normandy's stealth systems appear to be functioning against the Reapers. We will be able to make the jump to FTL within the next five minutes."

"Understood, EDI. Thanks."

"There's been an AI on this ship the entire time and I didn't know it? I can't believe this," the soldier sighed, throwing up her hands.

"Things change, Ash. In our case a lot of things."

She nodded as the doors opened onto the CIC, stepping out and heading to the right. "That's for sure. Come on, through here. Most of the Normandy was left untouched when you turned her over, but some modifications were made to bring her more in-line with a standard Navy ship, that ridiculous armory placement for example."

"What's this about a war room, though?"

"Originally Anderson had intended to use the Normandy as a mobile command ship for when the invasion began. She has the best electronic countermeasures and stealth systems of any ship in the fleet, not to mention being fast, durable, and armed to the teeth. No military would ever spend the kind of money Cerberus did on a single ship like this... but since they did, he figured why not use it?"

"And here Admiral Mikhailovich thought the original Normandy was an 'over engineered boon-doggle'," Shepard said, following Ashley through the set of doors that had once led to Mordin's lab.

Things had certainly changed in this part of the Normandy. Instead of a small storage space there was a security checkpoint, two marines snapping to attention as they entered. Stepping through a scanner much like the ones he had encountered on the Citadel he heard a few faint beeps and one less pleasant sound. One of the marines hastily slapped a control and nodded.

"Sorry sir, it's just going off because of your cybernetics," she apologized hastily.

He waved it off. "Not your fault. As you were."

What had been Mordin's lab had become the newest briefing room, with the same table as before he noted. A final set of doors opened into a circular room that he realized must occupy the void above the core. At its center was a console displaying the galaxy map, and terminals ringed the room, all filled with data. Ashley led him to the back of the room where yet another addition had been made. This room was barely bigger than his quarters on the first Normandy but he recognized the holo-transmitters and displays.

"Mostly untouched, huh?"

Ashley shrugged. "What Anderson wants, Anderson gets."

"Patching Hackett in now, Commander," EDI's voice said over the intercom.

There was a burst of visual static, blue electric snow that slowly coalesced into the form of Admiral Steven Hackett. He was a familiar face, lined with years of responsibility but his eyes still showed the iron will of a man in his prime, undeterred by the gray that had overtaken his hair. The image jerked and sputtered, however, a testament to current conditions.

"Shepard! Good - see you back - action!" the admiral said, cutting in and out.

"Sir. What's our status?"

"Not good, C-," another burst of static nearly completely pixellated the man's image before snapping back into focus. "Overwhelming force. They - hard, everywhere! Second Fleet is gone."

"Dammit!" he cursed, slamming his fist into the console. "They're already on Earth, sir. We just got out."

"I'm rally - Fleet, Commander. Falling back to -. Have a mission for you," Hackett said. "Prothean research facilities on Mars, Dr - said they found something. Anything that can help us beat these - damn things is vital. Will contact you soon, Commander. Hackett out."

Shepard nodded, even as the connection cut out. Mars? All this time and now they found something? Either way, Hackett was right. If there was something it could be their best chance at stopping the Reapers. And the Normandy was one of the few ships in the galaxy that could get in and out even if there were enemy forces present. Time to stop waiting, then, and start fighting.

He opened his omni-tool. "Joker, get us to Mars. We've got work to do."

"Aye aye, sir."

* * *

><p>Shepard slapped a thermal clip into the rifle before stowing at his back. He flexed his hands in the standard issue armor and shifted in place. Between six months stuck in a room and the custom armor he'd worn for most of his time aboard the Normandy it felt... stiff. Unfamiliar. He'd get used to it once the bullets started flying, he figured. Turning towards the young marine behind him in the shuttle he opened the squad comm frequency.<p>

"Vega, you've never worked with me before. This isn't standard military operations. Small team, we move fast, we hit hard. We do not call targets or ask permission. We get the job done, we go home. You do what I tell you, when I tell you. If you've got a problem you bring it up after the mission."

The lieutenant nodded curtly. "Yes, sir."

"Guess this isn't a good time to bring up... the other stuff?" Ashley asked, readying her own assault rifle.

"Not particularly. We've had our issues, Ashley. Only thing that matters right now is if that's going to keep you from following my lead in a fight."

She shook her head. "I might not be clear on everything that went down, but I know better than to second guess you in a fight. Let's just pretend it's the old days, I'll make them angry, you pop them like a can of Tupari."

"Sounds like a plan, Lieutenant Commander," Shepard said with a small smirk.

"Never going to let me live down the officer thing after all the crap I talked on the SR1 are you?"

"That's a big negative, LC."

There were a few minutes of silence as the shuttle cut through the martian atmosphere, occasionally buffeted by the strong winds. There had been no Reaper presence detected on the planet - apparently Mars had been completely bypassed in favor of hitting Earth directly. Not surprising considering there was minimal military presence now and barely enough people to even be considered an outpost.

"We're almost at the drop point. No response from the outpost at all, I'm not even getting residual chatter," the pilot said. "I'll set you down by the entrance and be on standby if you need an evac."

"Thanks..." he trailed off.

"Cortez, sir. Steve Cortez."

"Well, I appreciate it, Cortez. But from what EDI could tell all of the evac shuttles are still on site. We'll use those to extract. I want you doing fly overs. Tell us if you see anything or pick up any survivors."

"Understood, sir."

The shuttle finally stopped, hovering in place for a moment before the doors opened to the vista of the Martian surface. Rocky red plains spread as far as the eye could see, finally terminating at rough peaks in the distance. Even through his helmet he could hear the howl of the wind. Jumping from the shuttle he felt it too, a strong buffet that made him sway slightly with its force. On the horizon was a dark wall of roiling sand, appearing to move with sluggishly across the plain.

"Holy crap," Vega exclaimed.

"Sandstorm. It'll be here within the hour and once it hits you won't be able to get so much as a radio burst out of this place," Ashley said. "Hell I'm already getting static on local comms. We get more than a few hundred meters from each other and it'll get messy even with the Normandy to boost the signal."

"Guess we have our time limit, then. Let's move."

The trio moved at a light jog through the upper part of the outpost, finding nothing at all of note. Rovers like the old Mako and even more ancient Grizzly models sat unused, supply crates left resting on pallets. Shepard once again scanned the radio frequencies but still picked up nothing. Something was definitely not right.

Ashley echoed his thoughts. "Maybe they evacuated?"

"The Reapers hit Earth before we even knew what happened. How would they have evacuated the entire facility in that amount of time?"

Speculation ended when the unmistakable crack of a mass accelerator weapon being fired overpowered the sound of rushing wind. It was quickly followed by more. Then it was just the wind once more. He motioned them forward, pulling the sniper rifle from his back and keeping low. It was a much lighter weapon than his old Widow, the Viper being more of a marksman rifle than a true sniper rifle. But it would have to do.

He saw movement ahead and slid into cover, back against a heavy metal container. When Shepard glanced around the corner he quickly found a new level of confusion. Soldiers in heavy, military grade armor were standing over the bodies of what could only be Alliance security from their uniforms. The insignia on the armor of the soldiers was unmistakable. Cerberus.

"What the hell is Cerberus doing here? And why would they be attacking us? What the hell ever happened to 'humanity first?" Williams hissed.

"No idea, but I've got a pretty good idea about why everything went silent," Shepard replied, taking another quick look.

Their armor might actually be heavier than the old Cerberus issue stuff that the SR2 had been stocked with after his resurrection thanks to Project Lazarus. Most of them were carrying Mattock heavy rifles, an older model but reliable and accurate. A few more had what he could only assume were SMGs, but they weren't any model he was familiar with. Whereas the Illusive Man seemed to have been restricted to a few black ops teams and mercenaries in the past, this looked more like a private army. Where the hell had he gotten one of those in the space of six months?

"Explains why no one is answering... they can't," James whispered. "I only see a few transports, though. This was a secure facility, it should have taken an army to get in."

Ashley glanced at him. "It means they had help from someone inside. What are we going to do?"

"What we came here to do in the first place," he responded coolly. "Flank right."

He stood and shouldered his rifle, the crosshairs dropping over the nearest of the soldiers. They didn't even notice him until his finger squeezed the trigger, the shot taking the man in the side of the head. There was a moment of hesitation before the Cerberus troops sprung into action, going for their guns and diving for cover. No special forces veterans, that response had been too delayed. More idealists, working for the wrong people for the right reasons? How many Kens, Jacobs, and Gabbys put on that armor?

The thought was pushed aside. Jacob would never have executed unarmed men. Professional soldiers or not, they had made their choice. A head popped up to scan the area. Shepard's rifle bucked against his shoulder once more and the trooper's head snapped backwards as he collapsed. Two more fell under a withering hail of weapons fire from Ashley and Vega, so intent in looking in his direction they had missed the simple flanking maneuver.

"I thought we'd taken care of security!" he heard one of the panicked soldiers blurt.

"Shut up! Fall back to the elevator!" another barked, this one with far more authority in his voice.

"Ashley, cut them off."

The only response he got was another set of screams as fire exploded between the soldiers and their fall back position. One of the troopers had been disabled by the blast itself while the others tried to go back the way they came. Shepard was already moving, rifle stowed at his back and pistol drawn, sliding behind the same crates their opponents had been using as cover moments before.

"Shit! Behind-"

Two quick shots from his pistol cut off warning. The man staggered backwards, gun tumbling from hands that grasped at the blood pouring from his chest. It seemed Cerberus' new armor was heavy, but didn't come standard with shields. He could almost hear the Illusive Man's cultured, cool response. 'Acceptable losses'. One of the remaining three managed to turn in time to get off a shot that went wide, gouging the cover he was using before flying backwards from the burst of dark energy Shepard sent flying his way. He landed a dozen meters away, crumpled like a doll.

A single burst from James' rifle cut the others down. He could hear the frown in the younger man's voice when he spoke. "What the hell? Did Cerberus send its B team or something?"

"You always leave the green ones to guard what you've already taken. Less chance of them getting into trouble that way," Ashley replied, pushing one of the bodies over with her foot and looking at him. "When did you become a biotic?"

"Long story, one that we don't time have for. We need to get whatever data they have here and get out. Something tells me we aren't going to find survivors."

Moving into the elevator Shepard activated his omni-tool, overriding the controls and triggering the system to lower them into the main facility. He could almost feel Ashley watching him, and when he turned his suspicions were confirmed as the newly minted lieutenant commander had fixed him with a stare.

"I have to know, Shepard."

He sighed. "Know what?"

"If you had any idea that this would happen. All that time with Cerberus and they didn't tell you about this?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ashley? I fought with Cerberus, not for Cerberus. And any mutually beneficial relationship ended when I blew the Collector base to hell. I've been stuck in a god damn detention center for the last six months. I haven't even been able to speak with my friends, much less the Illusive Man!"

Vega came to his defense. "He's right, LC. They've had Shepard under lock down, hasn't been able to get so much as a vid call. Hell, the only people that ever even visited were me and Anderson."

Ashley shook her head. "It's just hard. All the stuff we saw Cerberus do. I know I was out of line on Horizon but at the same time... how do we know they didn't get their claws into you some other way? Control you with all the crap they put in you to bring you back?"

"After all we went through hunting down Saren I thought you'd have known me better than that, Ash," he said tiredly. "If I knew what Cerberus was up to I'd be happy to tell you. The Illusive Man was a son of a bitch, but he always seemed to be dedicated to fighting the Reapers. I don't know why he'd hit us now."

"Either way I shouldn't have brought it up now. Sorry," she said.

"Yeah, this is definitely the most chatty spec ops team I've ever seen," Vega added.

"You'll find the Normandy to be a... unique experience, James."

"Figured as much."

The elevator hummed along with aching slowness. Shepard glanced between the two of them, one that still probably saw him him as a title and a reputation, the other that he was starting to think might never actually trust him again. In the end it was her problem to deal with. And Vega's would change in time, they always did once the shine wore off. The young marine had been one of the few friendly faces during his incarceration. Anderson had assigned him as Shepard's guard when he turned over the Normandy and he'd stuck around ever since.

Finally they reached bottom, stepping into the loading area of the research facility. The trio fanned out, covering the area but finding no Cerberus welcoming party. They had definitely not been expecting any real opposition, even if most of their soldiers were fairly green no commander would have left his rear so unprotected otherwise. A strange rumbling sound caught his attention, distant at first but growing louder. He snapped his aim upwards.

A vent exploded in shimmered blue light and went flying across the room, immediately followed by a lighter streak of Asari blue diving out of it. A burst of weapons fire came after, slicing through the space the asari had recently occupied. The woman rolled and twisted perfectly to her feet in a single fluid motion. Shepard's eyes widened in surprise but he didn't have time to say anything.

Two Cerberus soldiers came charging out of the large vent after her just in time to leap right into a swirling singularity, flailing in the air. There was a brief burst of weapons fire and both men went limp, falling to the floor as the field dissipated. Vega raised his rifle to cover the newcomer but Shepard slapped it down.

"She's with us, Lieutenant."

The asari turned, her expression immediately changing from a look of anger to a far more natural smile. "Shepard! Thank the goddess you're alive!"

She had quickly crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck in a hug that he returned as best he could with a gun in one hand. Her next words spoken far more quietly.

"I am... so sorry about Earth. They moved so quickly even I didn't have the time to warn anyone."

"It's alright. You're not the one responsible for this mess. What are you doing here, though?"

"Anyone want to explain to the new guy what the hell is going on here?" Vega interrupted.

The asari flushed slightly and stepped away, composure returning immediately as she inclined her head at Vega. "Dr. Liara T'soni. And at the moment what's going on here is a Cerberus invasion."

"Why are you here though? Shouldn't you be... you know, on a certain very stormy planet?" Shepard asked.

"A... very long story, but I am here researching the Prothean archives. Didn't Admiral Hackett tell you?"

He shook his head. "The connection was barely holding up, it probably got cut off. The long stories will have to wait for later. We've got the mother of all sandstorms coming in and I doubt the Reapers will leave Mars alone for long. Hackett said you might have found something?"

"Many things. One of which is a device that the Protheans believed could stop the Reapers. But we need to get to the archives, and quickly," Liara added. "Cerberus knows what we've found and I suspect the Illusive Man wants it."

Ashley chuckled darkly. "Something powerful enough to deal with the Reapers? You'd better believe Cerberus wants it. And doesn't want anyone else to have it."

"Indeed, which is why we have to get the data first."

Snapping a fresh thermal clip into his gun Shepard smirked. "Then let's go screw up Cerberus' plans. It'll be just like old times."

* * *

><p>Cerberus had been considerably less well equipped in the 'good old days' Shepard thought, biotically lifting a trooper off his feet just in time for Liara to hit him with a push from the opposite direction, the explosive interaction of the two fields sending the unlucky soldier smashing into a wall at extreme speed. A few feet away Ashley cracked the last of their opposition with the butt of her rifle and sent him tumbling over the railing.<p>

He'd sent Vega back to commandeer one Cerberus' assault shuttles to extract with while he'd pushed forward with Ashley and Liara. Already he'd learned that Cerberus had changed drastically even from the barely palatable brand of 'at any cost' extremism that Shepard had become familiar with. It had been one of the newest researchers, Dr. Eva Core, that had been Cerberus' agent. She had ruthlessly vented the atmosphere in most of the facility while also disabling internal security, letting the strike force take the Alliance soldiers completely by surprise.

"Just through here," Liara said, gesturing at the heavy doors at the end of the hall.

Ashley nodded in relief. "About time, we're cutting it close."

"Don't we always," he replied drolly.

"True. I still can't believe what Cerberus is doing to their own people... what ever happened to helping the human race?" the soldier asked, popping the mask on another of the dead soldiers. "Every one of them..."

The man's face was a nightmare. Blue-black lines of synthetic material stretched out from his now lifeless eyes, skin pale and drawn, lips blue. Tiny reflective flickers could be seen in his skin and more lines traced their way farther back into the helmet beyond what could be seen. It was all too eerily reminiscent of Saren... or a husk.

"Just makes it clear that Cerberus won't be an ally in this war. I warned the Illusive Man about the risk of Reaper technology. That it couldn't be controlled."

Liara opened the console and began to access the archive. Almost as soon as she did, however, one of the holographic displays nearby shimmered to life. The scanner pulsed once and a far less welcome familiar face appeared with his piercing eyes and silver hair. As always there was a cigarette held between two fingers.

"Shepard. I should have known."

"Illusive Man..." Liara muttered. "Now we know why Cerberus is here."

"You know nothing, T'soni. The Protheans left us this data, with a wealth of information... that's been squandered by petty bureaucrats and fools."

The former Spectre fixed the hologram with a glare. "What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted. The data in these archives holds the key to ending the Reaper threat."

"By doing what? Turning your people in monsters? Doing the Reapers' job for them?"

"Not made into monsters. Improved. Faster, stronger... that's what separates us, Shepard. You see a chance to destroy the Reapers; I see the chance to harness that power. To push humanity to the next step of our evolution."

"The Reapers aren't a means to an end! They are the end!" Shepard yelled.

"To you, maybe. You can't defeat the Reapers - they're too powerful, too numerous."

"Not alone, but I can fight them. And with help I can beat them," he said. "Give me access to your resources, you have men, ships... technology far ahead of the Alliance standard. Work with me and we can stop this cycle."

The ghost of a smile appeared on the Illusive Man's lips. "I believe you would do better than most, Shepard. But the odds aren't in your favor. And in the end I don't want the Reapers destroyed, not when we can use their power to assure humanity's place in the galaxy."

"No. With that data I intend to rid the galaxy of these machines once and for all. No more cycles. No more greater powers pulling the strings, deciding who lives and who dies!"

"Your vision is pathetically limited. As a tool you were a useful one; you stopped the Collectors. You even destroyed the Alpha Relay, something I never thought you'd do. I'm proud of you for making that choice. But I won't have your single-mindedness get in my way. Do not interfere with my plans, Shepard. I won't warn you again."

He snarled. "Go to hell."

The transmission cut out, leaving them alone once more in the archive room. Liara spoke up suddenly, sounding frantic.

"Shepard! The data!"

"What about it?" he asked.

"It's not here. It's... it's being erased. Someone on the inside... go, right side, terminal room! Hurry!"

They were already running, turning and dashing into the next room before finally sliding to a stop with weapons raised. In the room a single woman with short, dark hair stood at a terminal unmoving.

"Stop! Step away... slowly," Shepard ordered.

There was a brief pause. And then she moved with blinding speed, flipping backward and catching him with a kick to the chest that sent him flying into the wall behind him. Liara and Ashley both opened fire but the woman moved with amazing grace, while the few rounds that managed to strike her stopped dead as her shields flashed to life. Before they could get a proper aim she had taken off running down the corridor.

"What in the hell?" Ashley barked.

"That was Dr. Core! The Cerberus spy. She must have the data, we cannot let her escape!" Liara replied. "She already erased everything from the mainframe, she has the only copy!"

Shepard groaned and pushed himself to his feet, wincing. She had hit him hard enough that he'd have bruises under the armor tomorrow. Not to mention she was somehow hiding military grade kinetic shields under a science uniform. That was one hell of a spy. He didn't give it further thought, however, as they bolted after the fleeing traitor. Even going all out they were barely keeping up, though, with Dr. Core bounding over obstacles like an olympic runner.

"Come on, we can't lose her!" he yelled, opening his comms. "Vega! Do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, Commander."

"Lock onto my signal, we need evac and support now! We're pursuing a Cerberus infiltrator, she cannot be allowed to escape."

"Understood, on my way," the marine replied.

It wasn't long until they found themselves outside. The winds were howling, thick red dust making it increasingly harder to see into the distance as the storm bore down on the facility. Core leapt up a maintenance ladder, barely touching the steps as she made her way onto the roof. A Kodiak shuttle painted white and black streaked overhead. He watched as it slowed and turned, coming in for a landing while he pulled himself up the ladder.

He fired as best he could while chasing her but the pistol rounds simply impacted her barriers with each shot, not even slowing her down. The shuttle door opened, letting her leap inside. His companions let loose with their own bursts of fire but it merely peppered the side of the small craft with scars and scratches.

"Dammit!"

Before he could begin to lament their failure, though, another shuttle appeared, Alliance blue and moving at combat speed. Shepard was confused for a moment before he figured it out, just in time to grab Liara and Ashley, yanking them back. The shuttle slammed into the Cerberus craft with a deafening boom, skipping off the top and spinning once before righting itself shakily. Vega certainly wasn't one for half measures.

The Cerberus ship fared far worse, the impact sending it crashing straight into the side of the facility and rolling across the roof, engulfed in flames for a moment before the lack of oxygen snuffed them out. He helped up Liara, while Ashley was already moving towards the shuttle.

"I'll see if the data survived, I don't think anyone could have survived that crash," she shouted back.

"Alright! Vega, land that thing before it falls out of the sky!"

"Working on it, sir!"

The shuttle came to a rough landing on the roof behind them, grinding to a halt. He waved at Vega, shooting a quick message to Cortez for a pick up. Then behind him he heard a strange thud. And then another. And another. He turned just as he heard the sound of tearing metal and watched the door of the Cerberus ship fly off, narrowly missing Ashley in the process. Out of the smoldering wreck stepped a female form, covered in ash and with glowing blue eyes.

"Goddess! It's not a spy... it's a machine," Liara gasped. "That's why she was so strong."

Ashley raised her weapon and fired even as the synthetic charged, getting off three rounds that struck it right in its center of mass, but the impacts barely slowed it. An attempt to bring the pistol down on the machine's head ended with a strangled cry of pain as it grabbed the soldier's wrist, yanking it away and then wrapping it's other hand around Ashley's neck, lifting her off her feet.

"No!" he roared, dashing forward.

But the Cerberus machine was holding Ashley between them and he couldn't get a clear shot. The thing that had been posing as Dr. Core seemed to pause, letting go of its captive's wrist and letting the gun fall away, reaching up to touch the side of its head. The machine nodded once and spun, hurling the soldier straight at the downed shuttle with bone shattering force. Ashley hit the metal with a thud, collapsing forward, even as the synthetic spy stalked forward to finish the job.

Shepard fired, emptying the magazine of the Predator into the thing's back. The shields that must have just come back online absorbed most of the fire but it was enough to get the machine's attention. It looked at him with dispassionate eyes and began to run straight for him, leaping the last few feet. Unfortunately her 'combat programming' hadn't even been updated to include Cerberus' last pet project.

He caught the overhand blow that would have broken another man's arm and yanked forward, slamming the synthetic into the ground. It kicked upwards but he was ready for the speed this time, pulling back just enough to avoid the blow before renewing his own assault. The sniper grabbed her wrist, much in the same way she had Ashley's, and spun her around.

"You're not the only one that's not the standard model," Shepard growled, yanking the knife from his belt and jamming it into the base of the machine's neck, just above the shoulders. There was a small spark... and then it dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Shepard took a few deep breaths before letting go of the machine and running to Ashley's fallen form, already on his comm.

"I need an evac now and prep the medbay! We've got a soldier down!"

Liara was already there. "Shepard is she..."

He knelt beside her, opening his omni-tool and scanning her armor. It had injected emergency medigel and locked the armor joints to prevent possible spinal damage. The sensors showed a pulse, but it was weak and he could see blood leaking from her mouth behind her helmet.

"Still alive. Get James, get any medigel he has in the shuttle. Go!" he barked.

The asari nodded, running for the damaged Alliance craft while the sensor continued to pulse with weak, irregular beats. Shepard whispered, even if there was no one to hear.

"Come on, Ash. I don't care if you trust me or not but you're not going go out like this... you're a fighter. The galaxy is all screwed up, us Normandy types have to stick together. Stay with me..."

Overhead he saw the blue flash of the Normandy's shuttle and he gingerly lifted the fallen soldier. Moving her was a risk that he had to take. There was no help left on Mars, probably not even in the entire Sol system. He ground his teeth in frustration, his voice a strained hiss.

"Don't you die on me, Williams. That's an order."


	4. Chapter 3: Surprises

Chapter 3, Surprises

"Status report, EDI."

"Lieutenant Vega has secured the synthetic body in the AI core. Once I can access its systems I should be able to retrieve-"

He cut the AI off curtly. "Not what I meant."

Shepard paced like a caged animal in his quarters. At least what had been his quarters, he thought angrily, looking at the now barren room, fish tank bubbling quietly. Devoid of life. The glass case that had once held the variety of scale models, his momentary distraction during the long hunt for the Collectors, was equally empty. Everything was gone, as if the Alliance had wanted to scour all traces of his influence from the place after his incarceration. Another wave of anger boiled up and he forced it down. In six months one would have thought he'd have gotten over the feeling of betrayal, but watching the Reapers carve up Earth had just driven the stupidity of it all home.

"Don't blame EDI. I told her to hold any status updates until we had done everything we could," Liara said behind him suddenly, filling the silence the AI had left.

He blinked, realizing he hadn't even registered the sound of the door opening. The asari was still covered in soot and a few drying stains that could only be blood, looking as ragged as Shepard felt. The last few words hit him in the gut like a charging krogan.

"She..."

Liara did her best impression of a reassuring smile. "She's stable for the moment, we did everything we could but she needs medical attention soon. There was no medical officer aboard when the Reapers attacked. I did what I could with my limited skills and EDI's help."

"We'll be at the Citadel soon, I ordered Joker to set course as soon as we were aboard," he told her.

With concerted effort he forced down the thick lump in his throat. In the back of his mind the former Spectre wondered why he cared so damn much. Ashley had practically told him that he was a traitor in her eyes less than a year ago. The acknowledgement that she might have been wrong that came during the mission had been grudging at best. But it still felt the same, just like Virmire.

"Then all we can do is trust Joker to get us there and hold onto hope," Liara concluded.

Shepard gave a deprecating snort. "Hope may be in short supply soon."

"No. Not now."

He looked up, surprised to see the conviction in Liara's eyes, even the hint of anger there. It always amazed him how much she had changed. The naive scientist. The bitter survivor, out for revenge. A woman that had slowly turned into a powerful and self assured individual; one of the most influential in the known galaxy. In her position as the Shadow Broker, she had the ability to start a war with a single push of a button should she so choose.

"That's what you're here for, Shepard. What you've always give us. And what we need you to keep doing if we're going to have any chance of winning this war," she continued firmly.

"And what if I can't do that anymore?" he asked, the words leaping from his mouth before he could stop them.

Liara looked at him, calm and collected. "I can't believe that. You're still Commander Shepard. I just watched you walk through Cerberus' private army like you'd never missed a day of training."

"You don't have to," he snapped. "I saw what the Reapers did to Earth just in a matter of minutes, Liara. I thought I was ready to take them on and I was an idiot. All I managed to do was delay them and then get myself locked in a god damn room for six months!"

"Don't start doubting yourself now," she countered. "You held them back for almost three years."

Shepard stepped closer the asari, the sound of his teeth grinding almost audible in the room. It took all of his strength to resist the urge to grab her and just... shake her.

"And all it cost was a quarter of a million lives," he growled. "Men, women, children... they never even saw it coming."

She didn't back down, meeting his gaze and driving home her words so hard it made him step back as if he'd been slapped.

"Then maybe you had best make sure it was all worth it, Shepard. Because the man I know wouldn't let those people die in vain."

This time he did notice the tell-tale swish of the door opening. A woman in an Alliance uniform stepped inside, dark skinned and dark haired. Her voice had an accent that made him think of highly pedigreed halls of education and culture.

"Commander Shepard, I'm Specialist- oh! I... I beg your pardon. I didn't realize you had company. I can -"

"I was just leaving," Liara said quickly, pushing past and shooting him a telling glance.

He sighed, rubbing his face, realizing that he was still wearing his gloves when the smell of burnt plastic filled his nose. Leave it to Liara to get into his head, for better or for worse. The soldier snapped the metal catches at his wrists and pulled off the gloves, tossing them on the desk.

"Go on, Specialist..." he prompted, trailing off.

The woman gave him a salute. It wasn't perfect, but something told him she wasn't a ground pounding marine. "I'm Comm Specialist Samantha Traynor, Alliance R&D. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after you turned it over to the Alliance."

"There weren't many of us aboard when the Reapers attacked... I'm actually the highest ranking member aside from Lieutenant Moreau," she explained, fidgeting nervously. "I wanted to tell... I mean I wanted to explain..."

"You've managed just fine, Specialist. Take a breath," he said, with a level of calm he didn't feel, slipping back into old habits. Her nervous monologue actually reminded him of Tali for a brief moment before he forcefully shoved that memory down and waited for her to continue.

The woman nodded, letting out a breath. "Thank you, sir. I just never expected to be serving on a ship. I'm a tech; a scientist."

"Then you can give me the rundown of the retrofits. Ash - Lieutenant Commander Williams - gave me some of them already."

"The ship is in line with Alliance regs now and has been completely outfitted with new top of the line quantum entanglement communicators. We're linked to virtually every QEC in Alliance space. Admiral Anderson had planned to use the Normandy as his command center."

"So I was told," Shepard said. "That won't be happening now."

The tech frowned, nodding even as he looked away, towards the empty fish tank and its hypnotic stream of bubbles.

"I heard that the Admiral chose to stay and fight. I wanted to say that it's an honor to serve with you, Commander. And I'll do my best for as long as you need me. They only sent me here to oversee the retrofits..."

EDI interrupted the conversation as was her wont. "Shepard, some of our systems require further testing. Specialist Traynor has been extremely effective during installation of my upgrades. I would prefer that she remain."

He couldn't help but smile slightly at the puzzled look at the younger woman's face. "Wait... since when does a virtual intelligence make requests and use possessives?"

"EDI isn't a VI. She's fully self aware."

"An AI!" Traynor said, eyes widening and hands balling into tight fists. "I knew it! Joker was lying!"

The ship's intelligence actually managed to sound apologetic. "Jeff requested that I pose as an advanced VI to protect myself from tampering. I am sorry for the deception, Specialist Traynor."

"I understand. And I apologize for all the times I... uh... talked about how... attractive your voice was," she replied, finishing quickly and studiously ignoring Shepard's raised eyebrow. "Now, about those upgrades."

He gave a tired smile. "Alright, walk me through it."

"Well, your friend Liara seems to have moved a considerable amount of equipment in the old XO's office on Deck 3. It was almost as if she expected to be here so I think she's officially claimed that room..."

The former Spectre simply listened. Liara's words rolled in his head, bitter in both their content and their truth. He couldn't let all those lives be lost in vain, even if he didn't know how he was going to make a difference. But he would do whatever was necessary to stop the Reapers. He had already given up too much to do anything else.

* * *

><p>"We're coming in now, I already radioed ahead. Control says they'll have an emergency team waiting at the airlock for Ashley," Joker informed him.<p>

"Good work, Joker."

"Ash might have went all paranoid bitch back on Horizon but she's still part of the old crew."

He nodded. "That she is. I need to check the rest of the ship and get with Liara on what her and EDI were able to discover. Comm me as soon as we're docked."

The pilot nodded and Shepard left him to what he did best, leaving the cockpit and heading for the elevator. Traynor was at the console that Kelly had once claimed as her own, typing out her reports and likely musing about all the 'interpersonal relations' that so fascinated her. The rest of the ship was disturbingly vacant. When the Reapers had attacked there had been less than a dozen people on board even counting Joker. Vega, Ashley, and two more marines made up half of those. Traynor and few R&D techs made up the rest, along with one lone engineer.

At least they had that, he thought. EDI could do a lot but she didn't have actual hands which were necessary to keep the ship running at times. Shepard stepped onto the fourth deck, heading to engineering to check on the aforementioned engineer. He had ordered Joker to redline the engines as they pushed for the Citadel and the last thing he needed was an overworked specialist getting in over their head.

When he stepped into engineering, though, he didn't find a frazzled young specialist in a sea of blinking consoles. Instead he was shocked into stillness, looking at what he thought was a ghost calmly tapping away at a console.

"Adams? Son of a bitch... I thought you were dead!"

The older man turned, his face marked with laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and hints of gray in the stubble that passed for his hair. A smile spread across his features and he drew himself up into a sharp salute.

"Commander. I could say the same for you."

He returned the salute and then stepped forward to shake the engineer's hand firmly. It was surreal, was this how people had felt when he'd just walked back into their lives? Cerberus had told him that Adams had been among the casualties aboard the SR-1... apparently the Illusive Man's information hadn't been quite so perfect and he hadn't had the time to check on the details during the hectic months following his resurrection.

"It's a long story, but it's good to see a friendly face. How did you end up on the Normandy again?"

Adams shrugged, turning and nodded towards the pulsing drive core. "The Alliance needed someone that knew about the Normandy's systems and I was the best they could do. Two Cerberus techs turned themselves in after you did but last I heard they were being held on the Citadel as 'information resources'. Tried to get a hold of Tali'Zorah but from what the brass said her response was less than agreeable."

"I'm... not surprised," Shepard said, his voice catching slightly but if Adams noticed he gave no sign.

"Have to say, sir, it's great to be serving with you again. Ever since we lost the first Normandy... those of us that made it out knew this day was coming. I thought we'd end up facing it alone," the engineer told him. "But no matter what they say, I feel better about our chances with you leading us."

"Thanks, Adams."

The older man nodded. Before he could say anything else EDI's blue hologram appeared on the console nearby.

"Shepard, Admiral Hackett is hailing us. Liara is already in the war room awaiting your presence."

"Understood, EDI," he replied and then looked over to Adams. "I've got to go, but if you need anything down here don't hesitate to ask."

Another salute was the only response as Shepard quickly made his way back to the elevator, slapping the controls and riding it to the CIC. He made his way past the security system and into the small communications room at the back, finding Liara already waiting just as EDI had said. She was reviewing a datapad before looking up as he entered the room.

"Good, I can give you both the information I've been able to extract from the Cerberus agent. EDI, would you please connect the Admiral?"

"Of course, Dr. T'soni."

The blue pixelated image snapped to life once more, this time far clearer and more distinct than it had been during the first conversation. Seeing the both of them Hackett gave a tired smile.

"Shepard. Doctor. I take it your mission on Mars was a success?"

"It was," Shepard said, glancing at Liara. "But Lieutenant Commander Williams was critically injured. We're on our way to the Citadel now. What's our status regarding the rest of the Alliance?"

"We both know it's only going to get worse, Commander. But I hope Williams pulls through, she's a good soldier," Hackett said with a sigh. "As for the Alliance... it could be worse, but only by degrees. Earth has fallen and we no longer have any fleet presence in the Sol system, it's up to Anderson on the ground to keep hope alive there."

"And the rest?"

The fatigue in the admiral's voice was evident. "They hit us hard, Shepard. Really hard. The Second... is gone. I was forced to have them fight a delaying action just to give the Third and Fifth a chance to escape. The Fourth Fleet... I can count on my hands the number of ships that survived to make it to the relay after Earth fell."

"Goddess... so quickly," Liara whispered.

"Their ships are unimaginably powerful. In two years the memory of Sovereign faded, we forgot just what a single one of their capital ships can do," Hackett continued. "The only good news I have is that the Second's sacrifice wasn't in vain: the bulk of the Third and Fifth Fleets made it out. I've assumed command of all remaining Alliance military forces which includes the scout flotillas and expeditionary fleets, along with the remainder of the First Fleet. Admiral Lindholm made a hard decision but it saved roughly half the First's ships."

Shepard sighed. "Which means that almost a third our naval forces are gone a day into this war."

"I'm afraid so. But we won't go down without a fight, and we're already working on new tactics to engage their ships more effectively. It's a war we can't win, though - only prolong. That's why I'm hoping you found something on Mars that can give us an edge?" the admiral asked.

He looked to Liara, who nodded and stepped forward. "There is a wealth of data to examine. Unfortunately some was lost due to Cerberus' interference, but I was able to find a number of things that might prove useful. I'm sending you the data now."

There was a brief pause in conversation as the info was transmitted through the QEC device. Shepard could see the admiral skimming through Liara's findings, nodding to himself before finally looking back up.

"Good, but it's not a game changer, Dr. T'soni. Improving our main mass drivers velocity by three percent or implementing a more efficient drive will certainly help but it's not going to swing the war in our favor."

"I agree," she replied. "In my opinion the only real chance the galaxy has is if we unite against the Reapers. To be brutally honest the Alliance doesn't have the strength to defeat a force as numerous and advanced as the Reapers even if we doubled the effectiveness of every ship you have."

"Brutally honest indeed... but correct," Hackett agreed. "From your tone I take it there is something else, though."

The asari continued, nodding once. "There is. Buried deep within the archives was the schematic for a device, something like I've never seen. Its exact function I couldn't decipher but I can tell you one thing: it is capable of generating energy beyond anything we have ever seen."

"Enough to destroy a Reaper?" Shepard asked.

"Enough to destroy a planet," Liara replied simply.

Hackett frowned. "And we have no idea what it does?"

"No. The only information I was able to find was that when translated the Protheans called it the 'Crucible'."

"That's a dangerous amount of power for anyone to wield, especially when we're not sure exactly what it does... but it might be our only chance," Hackett said. "I'll have my people here look over the data."

"It can be built, I assure you, Admiral," the asari stated. "It is... amazingly simple in its design compared to other Prothean devices we've found. But it will not be a simple task."

"So I can see. Shepard, this device might be our best hope, but it's for nothing if we can't build it. We need help. Ships, men, supplies... we need the galaxy on our side."

He nodded, clasping his hand behind his back and meeting the older man's gaze. "And I need to deliver it."

"There's no man better suited to the task. I'll be contact with you as soon as we have more information about Anderson's status on Earth. Hackett out."

He and Liara stood there for a moment after the hologram faded. This Prothean device... weapon, the Crucible? That was a measurable goal. A distant one, but it was something. It was a straw to grasp at when everything else seemed lost. But Liara had been right. On their own humanity couldn't win this war. It would take everyone uniting to pull it off. That meant turian fleets, krogan soldiers, asari biotics... and more.

"About earlier..." Liara began.

Shepard held up a hand. "You were right. Too many people have died to let it be for nothing."

"Too many indeed."

His omni-tool beeped. They'd be docking at the Citadel within the next half hour. "The Citadel... at last."

"What will you do now?"

"We go to the Council with what we have. They've ignored me for too long and now innocent people are paying the price. I won't be ignored anymore," Shepard said.

The asari leaned against the console. "Even now they might not believe the threat is as dire as it is. Before I met you I would have believed in the Council's wisdom. Now I see them for what they are. Flawed politicians that are all too ready to ignore reality. What if they won't provide the support we need?"

"Then we find another way."

Liara smiled. "That's the Shepard I remember."

"Maybe so," he said, forcing a tired smile in return. "Now let's go make some waves with those flawed politicians."

* * *

><p>The Citadel hadn't changed a great deal in six months, still the bustling hub of galactic activity it had always been. An Alliance secured dock and traffic control had been an interesting twist, but he supposed it made sense. Military ships docked all the time, why not have their own governments deal with their docking and maintenance? And, as promised, a medical team was waiting at the airlock.<p>

"Let's move. Get me Dr. Rakain and a full surgery team stat," the emergency physician said, checking Ashley's vitals even as she was being loaded onto a medical bed.

"Where are you taking her?" Shepard asked.

"Huerta Memorial. Best care in the Citadel, Commander, I promise."

And then they were gone, double timing it down the crowded halls, orderlies running ahead to push people out of the way. He pushed away the nagging question of whether he'd see Williams again, instead turning his attention to the man with his arms crossed, waiting by the airlock. Captain Bailey's stern expression softened slightly as they approached.

"Shepard."

"Captain Bailey... it's good to see a friendly face."

"Actually it's Commander now, head of Presidium security," the officer corrected.

Shepard arched an eyebrow at his less than enthused tone. "Congratulations... I guess?"

"A mixed blessing, now I spend most of my time fending off the press and political appointees. I'm here to take you to the Council... but I can stall if you want to head to Huerta Memorial first?"

"No... this can't wait," Shepard said, looking down the corridor for a moment before shaking his head. "Williams is their hands now, and I guess her God's. I just hope he's looking out for her."

Bailey gestured for them to follow. "All of you?"

"I don't think I'm going to be much help at that sort of meeting. I'll check in with whatever Alliance brass is here, see what the word is," Vega said.

"Good. Keep me updated."

With the lieutenant's departure they continued on their way, Liara falling behind slightly as they walked, checking her data pad and omni-tool constantly. Shepard gave the C-Sec officer a bemused look.

"So... security for the Presidium and the Council. Makes you pretty close to Executor I'd think."

"I feel more like a glorified doorman," Bailey countered. "I'm not cut out for politics... all the stuffed shirts and fake smiles. I'd rather be back on the streets."

"Then why accept?"

"Udina isn't a man you say no to... well, maybe you would, but I gotta live here. He decided I was the right man for the job. I wasn't even bucking for it, not like some of the others. So here I am."

He grunted. "Politics."

"Tell me about it. It's all about knowing who the 'right' people are to forward on to the Council, keeping the paparazzi out. Saying the right thing to 'maintain the integrity of the office'," the man said, doing a rather decent impression of the asari Councilor's cultured tone.

"Politicians... weeds of the galaxy."

Bailey laughed. "Ha! If that was a bumper sticker I'd put it on my damn office door."

They continued in silence for a few long minutes as the elevator ascended. Liara was still lost in her digital world of information and contacts, still better with facts than people. When Bailey spoke again his tone was far less jovial.

"It's killing me about Earth. I haven't been back in years. Now I may never get the chance."

"I know," Shepard said. "It was hard leaving."

The officer sighed. "If this ain't the end of days... it's pretty damn close."

The elevator finally stopped, opening up to open chamber that was the Council chambers, fully restored after the destruction wrought during the Battle of the Citadel. Back were the lush plants and bubbling fountains, the immaculately clean floors and walls. It looked just as it had the day he had stood before the Council and pledged to do his duty as a Spectre, to protect and serve the people of the galaxy. Eden Prime had been his first encounter with Saren and where the beacon had forever burned its imagery into his mind... but that moment before the Council is when he'd irrevocably set down this path.

He and Liara stepped out, leaving Bailey inside. Shepard turned back to the man, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Maybe it is the end of the days, Bailey. But what do humans do when our backs are against the wall?"

A humorless smile appeared on the other man's face. "We fight."

"Damn right."

"Good luck, Commander."

The C-sec officer gave him a quick salute before the doors slide shut. With that final encouragement he turned and walked purposefully up the steps to the audience platform. He could see Udina speaking with the others, arguing from the look of it, but he couldn't make out what was being said. On the walkways above them citizens from every race watched on nervously. There was a palpable aura of fear in the room. Monsters were real. And now everyone knew it.

"Earth is not alone in this, Councilor. Palaven has also come under attack."

"By all reports Earth was the first hit and has suffered the brunt of the attack," Udina countered.

"By your reports, maybe," Valern said, the salarian's voice dripping with poorly concealed scorn.

Before the Normandy was destroyed over that icy planet he might have been hesitant to interrupt a conversation between the most powerful political figures in the galaxy. But death had a way of changing your perspective.

"The reports are accurate. Earth was attacked. By the Reapers," Shepard said loudly before the debate could continue. "And it's only the beginning. We need everything you can spare if we're going to have a chance of saving our world."

The asari was the first to speak. "Commander Shepard. Your arrival was unexpected. I am afraid that each of us faces a similar situation. Even now the... Reapers press at our borders. If we turn our fleets towards Earth then our own worlds will fall."

She even managed to say the word 'Reaper' like it wasn't quite real, despite all evidence to the contrary. The sheer idiocy of it almost made him throw up his hands. Udina spoke up before he could offer the scathing rebuttal on his tongue.

"Councilors, we must fight this threat together! Alone we are targets waiting to be picked over at the Reaper's leisure."

"And so we should just follow you to Earth?" Valern asked incredulously.

"Enough!"

To his surprise it was Sparatus, his constant critic on the Council during his entire tenure as a Spectre, that spoke up. The turian fixed him with a hard stare. There was no kindness there, but maybe there was a little less scorn than he had seen before.

"Assuming we even did what you asked and united our fleets... do you really believe we can defeat the Reapers? I've seen the reports from Palaven. Even their smaller warships are capable of devastating our most advanced warships and absorbing enormous punishment."

"I didn't come here without a plan," Shepard replied, looking to his right. "Liara?"

Stepping forward the asari activated her omni-tool, creating a hologram that hung in the open space between the Council's platform and their own. It was a strange, tubular device that was rather smooth in appearance and twice as long as any dreadnought.

"Councilors, this is beginning of that plan. It was discovered within the Prothean archives on Mars. It is a blueprint for a device that they developed during their long war with the Reapers," Liara explained. "I am sending the details of its specifications to your consoles. We are still piecing it together but it appears to be a weapon of some form."

The salarian studied the image carefully. "But is it capable of destroying the Reapers?"

"So it would seem... look at the power output that the design promises. That much energy would destroy anything, no matter how powerful its shields or thick its hull."

"The scale, though... it would be a colossal undertaking!"

"Besides, the Protheans still lost their war against the Reapers," Councilor Tevos said, gesturing to the image. "Why would we expect to do better with their device?"

Liara shook her head. "The records indicate that they never completed the device. There was a piece missing, something called the 'catalyst', that they were unable to build before the Reapers destroyed them. As for the scale... it is considerable, but Shepard has already forwarded the data to the Alliance and resources are being gathered. The schematics are deceptively simple, as if they expected an unfamiliar race to need to interpret them."

"The point is that we can build it. But only if we work together," Shepard finished.

Sparatus leaned forward, still fixed on him. "An impressive find. But the question remains, do you really believe that this device can stop the Reapers?"

"Liara believes it will work. And I trust her judgement. I believe that we don't have any other options and I'll be damned if we're going to go quietly into the night," he said, returning the stare before turning his eyes to the other two alien Councilors. "The Reapers won't stop at Earth. Either we stop them now or they will wipe out every organic civilization in the galaxy, just like they've done a thousand times before."

There was a moment of silence as the Councilors looked at each other before the salarian finally shook his head. Already he could hear the platitudes, the excuses. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. It was Tevos that finally spoke, always the voice of the group.

"The cruel and unfortunate truth, Shepard, is that while the Reapers focus on Earth it gives the rest of us a chance to regroup, plan, and prepare."

"We have called a summit of our species to come up with a plan of action," Velarn added. "If we can manage to secure our borders then we may consider aiding you in the fight for your homeworld."

"I'm sorry, Commander. That is the best we can do," Tevos concluded.

He looked at them incredulously for a few long moments before giving a bitter laugh.

"The best? Two years ago I told you what was coming. You doubted me and when I died you did everything you could sweep me under the rug. Six months ago I warned you again. Brought you hard data... and you labeled me 'disgraced'. Told the Alliance that peace with the batarians was too important..."

"Everything we have done-" Tevos began.

"Has been to cover your own ass!" Shepard snapped. "So when your world is burning too, Councilor, you can talk to me about how everything you've done was for the greater good of the galaxy."

With that he turned and stalked away, not even waiting for a response. He just saw red. For the first time since the Battle of the Citadel itself he almost regretted his decision to order the Fleet in to save the Destiny Ascension. Only the hundreds of other crew members that had also survived aboard the dreadnought brought him any kind of consolation. His omni-tool blinked rapidly. Udina was asking him to meet in the Councilor's office.

"I'm going to meet some of my contacts, Shepard. Hopefully I can have better news for you soon," Liara said.

He merely nodded curtly, slapping the button for the elevator. It was a quick ride to the human embassy. Upon exiting the elevator he found the area flooded not just with humans but a sampling of virtually every race. It seemed confusion and panic wasn't restricted to any one place as he heard people demanding information about loved ones on Earth or colonies that had gone dark. He pushed through the press of bodies until he made it to the restricted area, quickly locating Udina's office.

"You make Anderson look like a master diplomat, Shepard. But you're dedicated, I'll give you that," Udina said as soon as he stepped inside.

The former Spectre shrugged. "I'm not playing nice anymore. Too many people are dying to keep playing games with those idiots."

"Not all of us are idiots... but then maybe it's because both of our homeworlds are under siege that we share a common bond," a flanged voice said behind him.

"Sparatus?" he said in surprise, turning.

"We don't have to agree and we can talk about who was stupid later, Shepard. But I think I have a way for you to get what you need. Or at least a step along the right path. Primarch Fedorian has called a war council among the Council races, but he's stranded on Palaven. The Normandy is one of the few ships in the galaxy that can extract him."

His eyes narrowed. "Years of practically calling me a traitor, then the Reapers show up on our doorstep... and you still want me to play politics?"

"If it gets you what you want, what does it matter? The Primarch is our most powerful military leader. With him on your side you'll have a powerful ally in this war summit," Sparatus pointed out. "The men and women at that summit will be the ones that decide where our ships fight. And for whom."

"Then I guess we've got a Primarch to extract," Shepard replied with poorly disguised sarcasm.

The turian gave him another unamused look and headed towards the door of Udina's office, only to pause and turn. "Oh, and the Council has decided to uphold your Spectre status. Our individual governments might not be providing support but you'll find access to certain resources you might not have otherwise had."

"Can't say I'm not surprised."

For the first time since first laying eyes on Sparatus he watched the man's mandibles curl into what he had learned was the turian equivalent of a smile. And only thanks to spending so much time with Garrus and their equally twisted senses of humor.

"We'll never be friends, Shepard. But I'm still a turian. And the difference between us and the salarians or the asari? War is in our blood. I think it might be in the humans too. We both know that some things can never be solved with words. Good luck, Shepard."

"Huh," he muttered.

The turian was out the door and gone before he could muster anything else, instead turning back to Udina. Thinning gray hair and an almost permanent scowl had always made the man look even older than his sixty some-odd years would suggest, but now there was another layer of worry etched into his face. He'd never liked the man, but he could at least respect the position he was in, expected to have all the answers but none of the power to actually provide them.

"I wasn't expecting that."

Udina shook his head. "Neither was I. It's truly dark times when the turians are the most sympathetic to humanity."

"I'm just not sure how he got the salarians or the asari to pitch in the extra vote to reinstate me."

"I overheard Sparatus mention something to Valern about 'the next uplifted species to get out of control'. The smug bastard certainly got flustered at that. Whatever it was, he gave the third vote needed," the Councilor replied, managed a faint smile.

"What about you? Any word from Earth? Or news at all?" Shepard asked.

"There's news, all of it bad. The few quantum entanglers we have spread across Earth are our only method of communication, everything else is gone. Our comm buoys are destroyed... for all intents and purposes our economy consists of nothing but one giant IOU. With the Parliament gone and Earth fallen, I have more power than any other person in the history of humanity... and it's not enough."

"Maybe not now, but I don't think you're just going to give up."

"Hardly. I'll lean on the colonies for all they're worth. Institute a draft... humanity has generated some good will in the galaxy and now it's time to cash in the chips. I can gather enough material to repair and resupply Hackett's fleet at least," Udina said. "The rest is up to you."

He looked out of the expansive view from the Councilor's office, the scene deceptively idyllic. Traffic flowed smoothly across the skylanes and the Presidium below was a splash of blue and green. A stark contrast from the world he'd left burning behind him. He thought of what the older man had said, about Parliament and Earth.

"Did you have family back on Earth?"

"No. But Arcturus... hell, I was on a first name basis with most of Parliament. I even had to get a second VI to keep track of all of their birthdays and anniversaries. It seems so trivial now."

The exhaustion in the man's voice was the most human he'd ever seen Udina.

"A lot of things seem trivial when you're fighting for survival. But it doesn't mean they didn't matter. I know you'll do whatever is necessary to help win this war, Udina. And I'll do the same."

The Councilor met his gaze with equal determination. "I'd expect nothing less. I'll be here if you need me, your Spectre status should give you a direct line to my office."

Leaving the diplomat to his thoughts Shepard turned and left, opening his omni-tool to check the new message that had just popped up. His authorization for full Spectre status was confirmed in the system. First stop would be the armory and offices, then. Time to see just what Sparatus meant by resources. Interestingly enough the Spectre facilities were only a short distance away.

He found the door, a heavy, double plated affair with a retinal scanner. Putting his eye up to the scanner it beeped once, twice, and finally a third time before the door opened. Once inside he was greeted by a short corridor constantly being swept by half a dozen sensors. The VI acknowledged his presence in that usual polite tone that most VI systems seemed to have as he made it past the final door, finding himself in a decent sized room filled with computer consoles, storage shelves, and screens but little else. So much for the Spectre break room.

"Shiny, isn't? A girl could spend days just messing with the computers and all those delicious overrides!" a voice exclaimed behind him, high pitched and almost giddy sounding.

Shepard spun on his heel, reaching for a gun that wasn't there, only to blink in surprise and relax as the air in front of him shimmered. Where there had been nothing a slight female form appeared, eyes twinkling beneath a familiar hood.

Kasumi smiled. "Heya, Shep. Thought you'd never get here."


	5. Chapter 4: New War, Old Faces

**Chapter 4: New War, Old Faces**

"Kasumi? How the hell did you even get in here?"

The slight Japanese woman's lips curled into one of her mischievous smiles. "A girl's gotta have secrets, Shep. Nice to see you too, by the way."

"Sorry. Where are my manners?" he quipped dryly. "How have you been? I've been in prison. You?"

"Definitely not in prison."

Shepard couldn't help but frown. "Informative as always. It is good to see you, Kasumi, and another time I'd suggest we go for a drink and a chat..."

"But giant robot space bugs are attacking Earth. I know," Kasumi finished for him. "I know I'm not known for my serious demeanor, Shep, but I'm not that oblivious."

"Sorry. It's been a long day."

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Of all the places to find the galaxy's best thief - but not the most famous, as she'd always pointed out - the home of the Spectres should have been an obvious destination. If Kasumi had one defining trait it was an insatiable curiosity, seasoned liberally with a desire for mischief and adventure. Chances were this wasn't her first excursion into what should have been the galaxy's most secure facility. And he had to admit it was nice to see another friendly face.

Kasumi shrugged and pushed back her ever present hood, revealing her dark hair and youthful face. "S'ok, you get the 'scary but nice guy with too much to worry about' pass. Now c'mere!"

The next thing he knew the petite burglar had thrown her arms around his midsection in a fierce hug. The only real physical contact he'd had in the past months being the occasional handshake and the less than pleasant experience of a husk trying to tear his throat out made the sudden embrace came as something of a shock. He awkwardly returned the gesture as best he could, the entire situation not being helped by the fact that Kasumi barely came up to his chest.

"Yeesh, you'd think nobody ever hugged you," she said, finally pulling back to give him a poke in the ribs.

"I've been confined to a single room for six months and it wasn't exactly open hugging season for the back-from-the-dead Spectre last time I was on the Citadel," he deadpanned. "Guess I'm rusty."

Kasumi waved her hand dismissively. "Details. Okay, so formalities are out of the way. I miiiight not have just shown up here by coincidence."

"Should I just respond with more sarcasm?"

The only response he got was a stuck out tongue before the thief pulled her hood back up, turning to the nearby console. Her fingers moved quickly across the holographic keys, accessing data he likely should be trying to keep her out of. Finally the image of a planet sprung up on the projector, rotating slowly in front of them. It was a bright orb of blues and greens, unpleasantly similar to the world he had just left behind. Kasumi turned back.

"Recognize it?"

He nodded slowly. "Eden Prime. I could never forget it. Too many good people are buried there."

"That's the place," Kasumi agreed, voice somber. "While doing... well, what I do, I came across something that's probably important. Ever since the Eden Prime War the Alliance and half a dozen different mega-corps have been pouring money into excavating anything that looks vaguely Prothean on the planet. Mostly it just turned up more ruined chunks of stone and the usual stuff."

"Something tells me you wouldn't be here if they'd just found more rocks."

"Not unless they were some pretty fancy rocks. No, I cracked a database that had a report sent back to one of those big corps and in it the science team said that they had found something monumental. They didn't go into details but they did say it was definitely Prothean and most important: it still had power."

Shepard's brows shot up. "The only things we've found so far that still had power after all this time were the beacons and facility on Ilos. You couldn't find out anything else?"

"No, unfortunately someone was on to me and I couldn't take the time I needed to finish decrypting the whole system. I could have just shot you a message about it but the problem is there was one other thing I discovered in my snooping," the thief explained. "I hadn't been the first one to crack their secure transmissions. Someone had been in them less than a day before me. Someone with amazingly powerful hacking programs, the kind of stuff that I've only seen EDI pull off."

"Cerberus," he said simply.

"Nobody else could have gotten in and out that smoothly. The only reason I even noticed was because I'd seen EDI in action. Whatever it is, the science team hadn't finished digging it out but I'd bet every first edition book in my collection that Cerberus is already there."

"Unless the Reapers got there first," he corrected.

Stepping up next to the young woman, Shepard opened a window of his own. A quick scan showed that while there were reports that a few Reaper ships had destroyed the forces that defended the colony, they had immediately moved on. Their initial push must have been completely focused on Earth, while Eden Prime's relatively light population and infrastructure by comparison was considered unimportant. He glanced over at Kasumi.

"Who were you hacking to find this kind of information anyways?"

She shuffled her feet for a moment before answering. "Maybe, kind of... something like a Council sponsored research team? I just saw a big money trail and I got curious! Don't judge me! It does lead to my other tiny problem, though. Turns out the Council really did a number on upping their security and my completely innocent hacking got me noticed by a certain individual interested in such things. Like a... Spectre kind of individual."

He reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. "You've got a Spectre after you?"

"Yes. He's amazingly persistent! And actually pretty good. A salarian named Jondum Bau; he's been chasing me for years. I just usually don't stay in one place long enough for him to get a good lead," the thief explained. "Not a bad guy. Just wish he was a little less dedicated."

"There are worse qualities to have... either way, this information can't wait."

Shepard leaned over the console and sighed, weighing his options. Anything Prothean could be key to this 'Crucible', not to mention the damage that Cerberus could do if they got their hands on some fully functioning Prothean technology. But without the support of the Turian Hierarchy and its fleets, their chances of ever finishing the Crucible were slim to none. It always seemed like the galaxy was putting choices in front of him just to laugh when he chose incorrectly.

"Shep?"

"Just thinking," he said finally. "Whatever they found on Eden Prime could be a key piece of the puzzle we need to win this war. But we'll never get a chance to use it if the Reapers overwhelm us."

"In other words, someone has already asked you to the dance?" Kasumi asked with a smile. The thief moved away from the console, leaning against the rail that separated the walkway from the computer banks.

He chuckled. "Something like that. We need the turians, and the turians need their Primarch to call this war summit. I've got to get to Palaven and even with this new information I can't afford any kind of delay. The best I can do is hope that Cerberus will have to take their time avoiding the Reapers. Maybe they won't beat us to it."

"I'll see what else I can figure out. The Citadel... it's a big place, I should be able to keep out of Bau's way."

A question pushed its way to the tip of his tongue but he hesitated. When all was said and done, Shepard had to wonder if he had the right to drag anyone else along on the path to hell that he was already following. But pragmatism won out over idealism. The simple fact of the matter was that hell had already come to the galaxy. It was only a matter of time until it spread and then nowhere would be safe.

"Or you can avoid him aboard the one place in the galaxy he can't find you," Shepard suggested finally.

"Shep, are you trying to be all coy with me? It's cute. Transparent. But cute," the thief said, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head. "I know we went through a lot... the suicide mission and all, but I'm still a thief at heart. Not a soldier."

He stepped forward, this time the one to initiate the contact by placing his hands on the woman's shoulders. "We're all soldiers now, Kasumi. Some just don't know it yet. This story only has two endings: we survive... or we leave ruins and clues behind for the next Cycle, one more fading memory on a long list of the dead."

"You're getting morbid in your old age, Shepard," she replied quietly, the hint of teasing still there but almost overshadowed by an atypical tone of resignation.

"Maybe so, but you know it's the truth. I wish I could tell you to go and be happy, but the fact of the matter is I have a ship with a skeleton crew. And we have an enemy far beyond the Collectors burning my home - our home - as we speak. Everyone is going to have to fight if they want to survive. At least on the Normandy you won't have to be looking over your shoulder."

Kasumi sighed and he could barely make out the rolling of her eyes beneath the hood. "Alright, alright. You don't have to get all deep and persuasive on me. I did like it on the Normandy. It felt like... home, though I don't know how it'll be without the old faces."

"It doesn't feel the same, but not everyone is gone. Joker is still around at least."

"Are you trying to recruit me or discourage me at this point?"

"Point taken... but we both know you're dying to know what Prothean relic they dug up and you're not going to investigate that on your own," he pointed out.

"Fine. Get me away from the persistent salarian and I'll join up with your crazy quest," the thief agreed, then paused, looking up with a small smirk. "Oh! And I think I might have just remembered something to help you with that crew problem..."

Following her movement he watched Kasumi once more access the secure Spectre database, quickly opening up a pair of files. Two pictures flashed across the screen. Gabriella Daniels, trying to look serious for her service picture; Kenneth Donnelly, making no such effort with a broad grin. Another keystroke and a video feed opened, a small cell in what looked to be the C-Sec offices occupied by the familiar pair.

"So they turned themselves in. C-Sec decided to detain them due to their 'extensive knowledge of Cerberus' and the Alliance didn't seem to care since they had you," Kasumi explained. "Now, someone with higher authority could release them from lock down..."

"You've been back in my life for ten minutes, Kasumi, and you're already influencing me to abuse my authority and shelter a known fugitive."

"What can I say? I'm fun like that."

He shook his head but typed at the same time, having nudged the thief aside. With his newly reinstated Spectre status he was able to quickly draft an order to have the two engineers released. He added an additional order that they and their personal effects be delivered to the Normandy immediately. It seemed only fair to make C-Sec do some of the leg work. When he pressed the send button Shepard couldn't help but let a small smile curl his lips. At the very least it was nice to be the one pulling the strings for once.

* * *

><p>Leaving Kasumi with her promise not to break anything the Spectre made his way to the other stop he had to make before leaving the Citadel. The galaxy may hang in the balance but some things just needed to be done. That included learning whether or not they'd made it to the Citadel in time to save Ashley... or if she was just the first casualty under his command in what was going to be a bloody, painful war.<p>

The elevator opened onto a brightly lit lobby, enormous windows offering an impressive view of the Presidium below. He had been here once before, though it hadn't been called Huerta Memorial at the time. They had done an excellent job of patching up the most injured members of his crew after the mission through the Omega Four relay, it seemed only fitting that Ashley was in their hands now. He stepped up to the semi-circular front desk, clearing his throat.

"We are trying to process people as quickly as possible, sir, and I promise - Oh..." the young asari said when she finally looked up. "Commander Shepard. I was told you would probably be arriving soon. Let me see..."

He arched an eyebrow but didn't respond. Apparently he was popular. The woman nodded to herself and pointed to his left.

"Here we are. Your friend is in room 1642... if you go through these double doors and take the second hallway on your left..."

"I'll show him the way, Reya," another asari interrupted. She was older, with skin of a blue so deep that it was almost purple, and oddly familiar. Finally his memory caught up to him from his last visit.

"Dr. Letha."

"Commander. Follow me, your friend is through here," she replied with a smile. "Before you ask, we were able to stabilize her but she hasn't regained consciousness. Her concussion was severe and combined with the other injuries she sustained she's lucky to be alive."

Shepard let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. All around him the hospital was abuzz with activity, doctors and nurses running back and forth with supplies, datapads, and other things. Patients lay on gurneys in the hallways, not even assigned rooms yet. The war had barely begun and it was already this hectic? Noticing his look of mild confusion, Letha offered up an explanation.

"Refugees... last day or so we've seen the numbers increasing. We've only heard rumors but a lot of them are batarian. Sounds like they were hit hard."

The sinking suspicion that had raised its head on Earth when he'd first saw the strange new husks was all but confirmed. There was no chance for the Hegemony to have fought off the Reapers. Despite their rhetoric, the pariah state's military was a paper tiger, dangerous in theory but woefully under equipped. Next to the turians the Systems Alliance had one of the most powerful fleets in the galaxy and it had barely slowed the Reapers down. The doctor's voice broke him out his musings before he could ponder the implications of what that meant for the galaxy.

"This was the mission, wasn't it? The one you said you were on when we met, the one that landed one of your crew in my operating room and you with quite a few scars to add to your resume?" Letha asked.

He couldn't conceal the bitterness in his tone. "The mission was to find a way to prevent this from ever happening... all I managed to do was delay it. A few years, a few months."

"I got to see my daughter graduate a month after you showed up in my office with your banged up crew," the doctor replied, her voice a mixture of pride and melancholy. "So thank you for those few months."

It was odd, but he almost missed his step at the simple statement. When he thought about it that was probably the first time someone had actually thanked him for what had always been the ultimate goal of his actions. He'd been thanked by the Council for saving their lives, by civilians for protecting them from the mercenaries, slavers, and other dangers of the galaxy, but not that.

"The Commander doesn't usually take praise well, Dr. Letha. I'm glad you seem to have at least made him accept it silently."

He blinked and snapped out of the fog his mind seemed far too ready to slip into these days. Standing by the door, Dr. Karin Chakwas looked at him as if he'd just stepped off the ship for a day instead of having been locked away for six months. Dressed in her usual medical uniform, she smiled as he approached, brushing aside her silvery hair.

"Chakwas? It seems like I'm running into a lot of old friends today..."

"Maybe not entirely by coincidence. I received an extranet message from a certain light-fingered mutual acquaintance that you would likely be on the Citadel soon. As soon as I heard that Williams was injured I arrived to help as best I could," she explained. "She's a strong girl. I think she'll pull through."

The older woman clasped his extended hand, giving it a firm squeeze in greeting.

"I hope so... we can't afford to lose good soldiers like her, especially not now," he said.

Next to him Letha smiled. "Doctor Chakwas, Commander. I've got other patients to see to so I will take my leave. Goddess watch over you, Shepard, for all our sakes."

Shepard gave a nod of acknowledgement as she departed before turning his attention back to Chakwas. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"After you turned yourself in the Alliance didn't know what to do with me. I had leave from my previous posting and I was never technically associated with Cerberus in any official capacity," she said with a shrug. "I ended up coming here and working in a clinic on the Wards with another doctor I believe you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Michel. She's become one of the top human cross-species physicians on the Citadel since the last time you met. Something about realizing that more than just humans needed the best care. She was more than happy to have my first hand experience."

He laughed ruefully, moving to lean against the wall next to her. "You probably have more of that that than anyone else. How many Alliance doctors can claim to have saved a member of every Council race and then some?"

"Not many... but I fear that number will grow out of necessity soon," Chakwas agreed.

"Sadly true. Doc, I hate to ask you to put yourself in such a position again, especially after what happened aboard the Collector vessel but..."

She smiled and cut him off. "I've already ordered my personal effects delivered to the Normandy's docking bay."

"Thank you. I know the Normandy doesn't hold good memories for everyone."

"I've always been meant to serve aboard a ship. And there is no finer ship than the Normandy," Chakwas said. "Besides, I'm sure Joker has been neglecting his medication in my absence."

"Of course."

There were a few moments of companionable silence as they both gathered their thoughts. Karin Chakwas had never been a soldier, always a healer, the one that put them back together after their reckless charges and last-ditch plans. The Normandy would feel a little more like home with her aboard. He glanced towards the closed doors.

"You can see her. She's still unconscious but a familiar voice never hurts. I'll get my affairs in order here."

He turned and pressed the activation pad on the door, nodding at the doctor in appreciation. "Thank you. We'll be shipping out for Palaven within the hour."

The door opened like every other, a faint hiss and then silence as he stepped inside. Ashley lay in the bed, looking oddly out of place in a simple hospital gown. Her face was a mass of bruises and cuts and one arm was wrapped in a polymer cast. If this had been the old Normandy he could already hear her berating him for seeing her like this. She did always have a prideful streak.

He sat down in one of the chairs and placed his head in his hands for a long moment before looking up.

"You need to get well soon, soldier. That's an order. The galaxy needs its best..."

* * *

><p>Shepard had returned to the ship to find a very surprised pair of engineers waiting, only to have their looks of surprise turn to broad grins. Donnelly had been quite effusive both in his praise and in his derision of C-Sec and their 'bloody inhumanely boring' holding cell while Gabby had just been happy, trying to shut Donnelly up before he ran his mouth off too much. Traynor had informed him that Chakwas was already getting set up in the Medbay and looked a little bewildered at the people just suddenly showing up at the airlock.<p>

"Welcome to the Normandy, Specialist. We attract the best, the brightest, and the strangest," he told her as they stood at the CIC, not longer after exiting the Palaven relay. "And those strange ones often end up being the most loyal."

"Well, I'm sure Adams will appreciate the extra hands, and having an actual ship's doctor is never a bad thing. I was just a little surprised to find people volunteering when they clearly seem to know where we're going."

"Into the mouth of Hell... that's where the Normandy shines the brightest, Traynor."

"Well as long as EDI doesn't take that as a suggestion to play with the illumination levels while I'm trying to sleep I think I will manage."

He chuckled. "I think you will. Keep me advised of any updates or changes from the Hierarchy. From what EDI has shown me they're putting up one hell of a fight but it could go badly at any moment. The last thing I want to do is hit the ground and find myself on a folding front."

"Of course, Commander," Traynor agreed. "Oh, I almost forgot. Lieutenant Vega said he has your new armor prepped in the shuttle bay when you're ready to suit up."

"New armor?"

"He... wasn't more informative than that, sir."

Shepard waved it off, stepping around the galaxy map and moving up to the cockpit. There were still far too many empty seats, consoles blinking on standby, but he couldn't just pull a crew out of thin air. At least EDI seemed more than capable of managing on her own, especially with a bolstered engineering team and Joker in the pilot's seat. He thumped the back of the pilot's chair.

"Try not to buzz too many Reapers on the way in."

"I'll keep that in mind," Joker replied drolly. "The geth might not believe in windows but those glowing bits on the front of the Reapers look way too much like eyes for me to be comfortable. Makes me think of that big damn spider I found in my bunk freshman year at the academy."

"Afraid of spiders, Joker?" he asked.

"Who isn't afraid of spiders? I bet even freak'n Zaeed is afraid of spiders," the pilot shot back. "Conclusion: screw spiders."

"I'll keep that in mind and cross the 'pet tarantula' off the list of Christmas gifts."

Joker laughed. "Probably a good idea. Unless you want me flipping out and making the ship pull crazy ivans while I try to make a run for the airlock."

"Jeff, I would not allow you to potentially crash the ship due to your fear of arachnids. I would prefer, however, that none be brought on board. I find myself oddly displeased with the idea of such creatures crawling in my internal structure," EDI interjected.

"See? Even the AI hates them and that's downright illogical. Universal constant."

"Noted," Shepard replied drolly.

"Joker you are such a scaredy cat!"

"What the cr-" the pilot almost squealed as Kasumi said the words right next to his ear, materializing in plain view. "God dammit! Why didn't you tell me the klepto sneaky girl was back on the ship, boss?"

"For a moment just like that. Now once you change pants, get us in close. We've got work to do," Shepard ordered. "The Primarch isn't going to save himself."

Joker gave the thief a harsh glare but nodded finally. "Aye aye."

He left the pilot, Kasumi trailing behind, staying visible this time. When he opened the elevator and she stepped inside he was more than a little surprised.

"Never known you to volunteer."

The thief sounded a little uncertain. "I agreed to come back, Shep. I know this isn't going to be nearly as glamorous as the last time. And... I feel like I need to see this. The Reapers are frightening just on the vids. I need to... I don't know. Be there?"

"You need to face your fear," he suggested.

"I guess that's it. I can deal with violence. I might not be able to just accept it the way you and Garrus do, admittedly. I make jokes because I'm nervous. You two seem to actually enjoy yourselves."

"We all have our ways of adapting to what life throws at us. Garrus and I always seemed to have the same... inclination, I guess you'd say," the Spectre tried to explain. "Of the aliens on the original Normandy, well, Wrex was just numb to it. Liara and Tali were much more affected by it in the beginning."

Kasumi nodded. "Makes sense. Pilgrimages and archeology digs aren't exactly the same as storming pirate bases... seems like they both learned to cope."

"They did," he said quietly. "I'm still not sure if that's a good thing."

The doors of the elevator opened onto the shuttle bay and the newly located armory. To his left were racks of weapons and armor, along with a work bench with the numerous tools of the armorer's trade. Vega was already fully geared up, dark blue and black Alliance issue heavy armor covering him from neck to toe. The young marine ran his hand back through his short mohawk and watched Kasumi quizzically.

"Commander... new recruit? I didn't think the Alliance took them that small."

"Lieutenant Vega, this is Kasumi Goto. She'll be accompanying us on the ground team. While she might not have your physique she more than makes up for it in the technical and infiltration departments."

"I'll take your word for it, sir. After seeing your asari friend in action I guess I shouldn't doubt anyone else you show up with."

Kasumi gave the large man smirk. "_Yoroshiku_, Lieutenant Vega. And you're smarter than you look. It takes most people longer than that to learn not to question Shepard."

"I'm just gonna assume that means something nice, cause the translator didn't do crap for it."

"They never have handled Japanese well... odd considering we manage to talk to floating jellyfish and space raptors like the turians," Kasumi mused. "But don't worry, you'll know when I'm talking about you."

"And there's your introduction," Shepard concluded with a chuckle, glancing at the weapons rack. "Now where's my gear, Vega? Traynor said something about new armor?"

"Yea, I figured that must have been your new kit. Never seen anything like it."

As he walked over to the locker he noticed Kasumi following him. Tossing a suspicious glance back her way he opened the locker to reveal a pristine set of armor hanging piece by piece. The lines of the armor were familiar. Much like the custom suit he'd possessed during their mission to stop the Collector abductions it evoked the style of ages long past. The angular, slit visor and curved pauldron that protected his neck and shoulder had made Tali call him a baelen'sor, her people's equivalent of ancient Earth's knight-errant or wandering ronin.

It wasn't the same armor, though. That armor had been a ruined mass of punctured titanium and polymer that had barely held together when they'd made it out of the Collector base. While it had served him well for all those months even he had been forced to acknowledge that it was too far gone. The last service it had performed for him had been one that was ultimately unsuccessful when he'd presented the findings on the Reapers to the Council shortly after the mission. He had hoped its damaged, rent, and brutalized appearance would have driven home the price paid for that intelligence. So much for theatrics.

That armor had also been made up of plates that looked like brushed steel with the stylized red image emblazoned on the left shoulder. This new suit had the same lines but the lacquered black surface had the appearance of a seamless carapace. Where once there had been a dragon, a homage to the professional combat league that had created, tested, and eventually gifted the suit to his mission, there was now the stylized image of some sort of bird of prey laser etched in the same vibrant red.

Shepard reached out a hand, tracing it down the design from where the bird's wing started at the shoulder to the head that swooped down the side of the armor's chest like the bird of prey was diving to strike. He glanced back at Kasumi once more and arched an eyebrow.

"It's a phoenix. Or a_ fushicho_ in japanese... one of Earth's more universal myths," she explained. "You've risen from the ashes once already in a literal sense, Shep, so it seemed appropriate. Liara's the one to thank for the armor itself, though. I just came up with the idea."

He couldn't help but smile. "I'd tell you it's an extravagant waste of resources but... thank you. And the specs?"

"Equally extravagant. It'll do everything your old gear did and then some. It's as bleeding edge as it gets. I doubt even Cerberus has anything that can match it and especially not custom designed for someone with your 'perks'. So suit up, flyboy."

As promised, the armor fit like a glove. Each piece slid into place perfectly over the mesh under armor locking into place with a barely audible hiss. When he finally pulled the helmet on and locked it into place the heads up display activated to give him a full, unobstructed view and he could hear a faint hum as power systems came online. A small orb icon appeared in the lower right of his vision and EDI's voice filled his ears.

"Hello, Shepard."

"EDI. Just doing a comms check?"

"No, I have actually downloaded a small subroutine into your suit's armor. The software and hardware potential of your new armor is far in advance of the previous model and has allowed me to actually directly interface with it. The subroutine of my processes that I have linked to your systems should prevent any incidents such as the one that occurred on the Shadow Broker's vessel to Tali'Zorah. Should any attempt a remote access even with the correct authorization codes I can respond in real-time."

He blinked. "You're saying a tiny piece of you is basically in my armor?"

"Essentially, yes, Commander. I can withdraw the runtime if you are uncomfortable with the situation but I merely wished to account for all possibilities," the AI said.

"No, it's okay. I'm just amazed this armor has the computing power to handle even a small part of your consciousness."

"The 'fork' of my processing power that is operating in your systems is only a tiny fraction of my actual computing power and actually only takes a relatively small amount of power. My diagnostics indicate that I am actually only using a small portion of the available hardware."

"Interesting... could this technology be used to upgrade other members of the team?" he asked.

EDI sounded regretful. "Only in theory, Commander. The hardware required for such an upgrade would require a fairly substantial suit of armor as the base system and would come at considerable cost."

"Well, keep it in the back of your mind."

"I do not have a 'back' of my mind, Shepard, but I will assign examination of the possible upgrades a tertiary status in my processing calculations."

"Same thing, just more words."

The small orb disappeared from the HUD as EDI apparently ended the conversation. He flexed experimentally in the new armor, feeling the same range of movement as the old model had provided. Satisfied everything was in order, he exited the armory to the sound of a low whistle from Vega. And something more akin to a wolf whistle from Kasumi.

"Wow, that is slick, sir," the lieutenant said admiringly. "Makes the standard N7 stuff look like grunt wear."

Kasumi nodded in agreement. "It's not that old suit from Hock's party, but it certainly makes an impression. Tali would be giddy seeing you in that get up."

He was happy the helmet hid his sudden frown at the mention of the quarian's name, but it seemed the thief noticed the hitch in his step despite any attempts to conceal it when her commentary trailed off and instead became a more business-like request.

"So where's Liara? Aren't we leaving in a few minutes?" Kasumi asked.

As if on cue the elevator doors opened to reveal the asari, wearing the same practical but stylish armor-slash-labcoat. A pistol rested easily at her hip. She gave a faint smile upon seeing him clad in the black and red armor.

"It fits?"

"Perfectly, thanks. Seems you two were busy while I was gone," he said.

"Very," Liara agreed. "Kasumi's heists became much more specific and purposeful in the months you were away, much to the underworld's surprise. Less paints, more cutting edge technology, financial data, and government secrets."

The thief shrugged. "Everyone has to grow up sometime. Now before Liara ruins my reputation, don't we have a Primarch to save?"

"She's right. Load up, people."

The small squad quickly filed into the Kodiak shuttle. Steve, apparently the Normandy's designated shuttle pilot, was already buckled in and had the vessel prepared to exit within seconds. His voice came over the intercom.

"Ready to go, Commander. And Vega, note how I'm not crashing into anything as we approach the moon."

A laugh came from the marine's helmet. "Hey, I got the job done."

"You did. Maybe next time you'll remember we started putting guns on these things," the pilot countered, fingers tapping at the controls. The shuttle shifted and suddenly they were in space, exiting the Normandy's bay.

The moon below wasn't much different than Earth's, mostly grey dust and rocks, though at a much closer orbit to its parent. Palaven itself was the far more striking, and horrifying, sight. Orange lines that could only be the burning trails of destruction left by the Reapers criss-crossed its surface. In one area on the nightside of the planet a patch of glowing embers looked almost the size of one of Earth's island nations. In the distance they could see Hierarchy forces fighting the Reapers, if fight it could be called. Tiny blinks of light were the only indication of ships dying by the dozens.

On the surface of the moon the battle seemed to be going no better. As the shuttle swooped in low to avoid detection he could see a Reaper marching across the barren plains. Its form towered in the distance like a mountain of steel, its footfalls obscured by fog and the dust of its passing. It stalked forward inexorably, lashing out with its main gun in sweeping beams of red fire. He could only imagine the devastation it was creating before it; a merciless avatar of destruction.

Liara gasped. "By the goddess... Palaven. Was it this bad back on Earth?"

He could only nod sadly, looking out the window and feeling his jaw tighten with every little flash. Vega answered for him.

"Worse. The turians are fighting like hell... our fleets didn't even know what hit them."

"I'm so sorry, Shepard. It's hard to imagine destruction on such a scale until you see it for yourself. Either way... if anyone could survive it..."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the younger soldier cocked his head curiously before Kasumi brought him up to date, voice uncharacteristically withdrawn.

"We have a friend, a turian. He was on Palaven."

"Ah, shit. If he rolled with you I'm sure he's fine," the marine said.

"The most powerful military fleet in the galaxy and the Reapers are taking them apart piece by piece," he replied, ignoring the platitudes. Liara's words were genuine but it didn't do him any good to dwell on it. "If we're going to win this war it's going to have to be with overwhelming force."

"That's what we've got you for, Commander. You're gonna make the biggest damn hammer in the galaxy to knock these _putas_ back into whatever hole they crawled out of," Vega said.

Marine bravado, really, but maybe it was exactly what the galaxy needed. A war against an enemy like the Reapers would be won as much by the will of the galaxy to keep fighting as by bullets and bombs. As long as they kept their heads up then it wasn't really over. He smiled darkly behind his helmet and nodded.

"That's the plan, marine. So let's get started on the first part of that hammer. The turian part. Cortez, ETA?"

"We're coming in now, Commander, but the LZ is hot. There's some kind of creature coming from everywhere and charging the turian barricades," the pilot responded. "There's weapons fire coming from everywhere. I don't think these guys are doing too well."

"They're called husks. Open these doors, Cortez. We're able to provide our turian friends some relief. Lock and load, people!" Shepard ordered loudly.

The doors hummed for a moment as the magnetic seals began to release. Kasumi appeared next to him, tapping his armored shoulder with something metallic. He glanced over and blinked in surprise at the item in her hand. It was a standard issue Alliance combat knife. The seven inch carbon-alloy blade was notched in a few places and the black polymer grip, worn from years of use, was immediately recognizable. It had been the same blade that he'd carried on Akuze and every day since.

"One last welcome-back gift. I snagged it when the Alliance was sealing up your personal effects," Kasumi said. "Tali told me that you always had it, even on the original Normandy. Figure anything someone has hung onto that long must have a little luck in it."

He took the weapon, flipping it back and forth between a forward and reverse grip. It felt like an old friend. Shepard smiled.

"Thank you, Kasumi. You've done a lot more for me and everyone else than anyone probably ever expected from a 'mere thief'."

"Mere thief? Careful, you might offend me," she shot back.

"Wouldn't dream of it. I know what you can get up to when you put your mind to it."

"Alright, we're in position! Careful, sir, this place is a mess!"

The shuttle doors opened. A hellish scene greeted them. Husks sprinted across the dusty moon's surface towards the pre-fab barricades that the turian soldiers had set up. With all the precision and level-headedness he had come to expect from turians the soldiers were pouring steady fire into their enemy but every husk that fell seemed to have another to replace it. Another building to their right had already fallen, dead soldiers lying in pools of their own blue blood or slumped over the barricade itself with more husks crawling toward the remaining strong point.

Shepard didn't waste any time. Leaping from the shuttle, he landed on the hard ground with a thud, knife still gripped in his left hand. Pointing towards the turians he started barking orders.

"Vega, Kasumi! Take out the husks trying to flank the turians. Disruptor rounds, aim for the legs first. Liara, on me. We're driving straight into their right flank. Think you remember the drill?"

In answer the asari's biotics flared brightly, a sudden swirling vortex appearing in the middle of the largest clump of husks. The creatures flailed in panic as they stumbled, many leaving the ground completely. Calling on his own abilities he lashed out with a burst of raw dark energy in the same direction. As soon as the two energy fields connected there was a resounding boom. The sudden explosion collapse scattered husks like so much chaff.

"It seems I do. Though I recall it was Wrex and Kaidan that were originally the other halves of this tactic," Liara replied.

"Then I hope we can make them both proud with me picking up the slack!"

He drew the heavy pistol at his hip and pumped two rounds into a husk that had turned to charge in their direction, while another was sent spinning by a burst from Liara's submachine gun. It seemed Vega and Kasumi's fire support had also taken a toll on the husks trying to climb up the barricade from the side. Liara threw out another grasping singularity into the path of the next pack of husks and a second later he followed up with a blast the same as the first. Their numbers thinned, the remaining husks found themselves under the now much more concentrated fire of the turian defenders.

The firefight had turned around in barely a minute's time with the four of them tearing through the enemy flank until they were dealing with the remaining husks right in front of the turian defensive line. Two husks leapt at him simultaneously in an act of rather acute animal cunning, only for one of them to be knocked out of the air by a burst of SMG fire. He easily side-stepped the remaining creature and when it turned to lunge again he drove the combat knife beneath its chin and jerked. The eerie blue in its eyes faded instantly and he let the thing fall to the ground.

"Spirits! I don't know where you came from or why you're here... but you just saved our asses," the turian said over the side of the building. The turian's face paint was almost obscured by soot but the grip he had on the assault rifle in his hands was steady.

He looked up, tossing the soldier a salute with his pistol. "Commander Shepard of the Normandy. I need to find your CO. I'm here to extract Primarch Fedorian."

"Shepard? Thought your own people had locked you up. Damn glad to see they didn't decide to keep you locked up. General Corinthus is at the main compound but we're getting torn apart. You'd better hurry, just head behind the barricade here and head north. We can keep this flank secured thanks to you."

The soldier returned his salute in a rather good imitation of the human gesture. Motioning for the others to follow he kicked himself into a jog. He slipped the knife into the previously empty sheath at his back. It didn't take them long to find the base camp, a collection of the same pre-fab buildings, crates of supplies, and far too many wounded soldiers. Ahead he heard even more gunfire and a bone curdling shriek. A massive winged beast suddenly streaked overhead, chased by turian fighters.

"This is bad," Liara muttered. "The turians seem to be hanging on by the tips of their talons."

"Then we make sure they keep holding on," Shepard said.

They made it to the middle of the base when the barricade to their north suddenly shook, sending soldiers flying off of it in every direction. Men scrambled in the direction of the barricade but looked confused. No explosion had been heard, more like the impact of an aircar colliding with a wall. Another earthshaking thud echoed through the base. The wall exploded inward with a shower of dust and shrapnel, answering the question in a violent fashion. A massive creature that had to have been half again the size of a yahg emerged from the cloud of dust. It was hunched forward like a metal skinned gorilla but possessed an almost comically small head and neck that looked back and forth, scanning for targets before retracting back almost in its shoulders for protection. With a roar it charged forward, rending the nearest soldier in half with one huge, spiked forearm.

"What in the hell is that?" Vega yelled.

"No idea, but it's going to take these guys apart if we don't stop it!" he replied, already seeing the silhouettes of husks emerging from the breach the thing had made. "Vega, get its attention. Kasumi, Liara, help seal that breach!"

Liara was already throwing out waves of biotic energy when her voice came over the comm. "What's the plan, Shepard? That thing is huge and I'm seeing rounds practically bouncing off its armor."

"Working on it," Shepard shot back. "Just keep the base from being overrun and I'll deal with the giant monster!"

He silently cursed the lack of heavy weapons available. Before he would have had something available to crack the beast's heavy shell, but now the most firepower he could muster was an assault rifle and a few grenades on his belt. Even as his rounds sparked against the thick plating of the creature an idea formed, watching its movement, the segmented, almost insect like appearance of the thing. Another turian fired as the thing approached and it flinched aside for a moment as the rounds sparked around its head. The respite was short for the turian soldier, though, and a brutal slash sent him flying. Shepard looked to his left at Vega.

"Aim for the head!"

"I'm trying! But it's tucked in there like some kind of stupid turtle!" the younger marine growled.

A round struck its bony shoulder and the thing raised its bulky forearms, absorbing the rest of the burst. Shepard smirked.

"You got it! Keep it up!"

"What?"

The soldier sounded confused but followed orders, pumping round after round into the creatures armored forearms. Vega cycled magazines with admirable speed, keeping up an almost steady stream of fire that was only added to by the turian soldiers that were doing their best to assist. The place was already turning into a mess of smoke and dust but he could faintly see the blue glow of Liara's biotics. He trusted her to deal with the breach. Shepard looked down and switched the three grenades he had to triggered detonation rather than timed.

Pushing himself into a full sprint he holstered his pistol and pulled two of the explosives from his belt. Thumbing the bottoms he activated the magnetic pads and hoped that the synthetic shininess of the thing meant it had as much metal in it as he thought it did. Shielding itself from Vega's fire the creature didn't notice his charge until he was almost on top of it. The creature roared in fury, lifting its arms high and bringing them down in an overhand smash.

"Not making it that easy!" he yelled, leaping upwards so that the massive fists slammed into the ground he'd just occupied.

Slamming his shoulder full force into the thing's chest resulted in little more than a slight stagger on its part. But he hadn't expected it to come crashing down. The beast's burning blue eyes fixed on him and he realized that he was looking at what once had been a turian's facial plates. He brought both his hands down, sticking the grenades to the thing's shoulder plates and rolling away even as it recovered from the surprising assault.

"Shit."

It was all he had time to say as the monster's forearm caught his side in mid-roll, sending him skidding across the dirt from the impact. Impressively his armor held but it still hurt like hell and now he was on his back. The creature swung in his direction, shifting to charge when he stabbed the button on his omni tool. The explosion momentarily engulfed the beast in fire and he heard its roar change to one of pain.

His elation at its discomfort was short lived when the dust cleared and the creature was galloping towards him on all fours. As it reached him it rose up to its full height. Blue-black fluid poured down its sides, the massive armored shoulders torn asunder by the explosives and chest a twisted mass of shrapnel. He could even see a disgusting mass of fleshy organs beneath its ruined ribcage. A concentrated volley of fire to its front would take it down now... but it was still more than capable of killing him in its wounded state.

Shepard rolled, the first huge fist slamming into the ground next to him, followed by the other. He yanked his pistol free of its holster and emptied the magazine into the beast, causing it to keen in pain once more and then bat him aside with one claw. He slammed back first into one of the metal buildings and groaned, watching the thing begin to charge once more. Vega was firing steadily into its flank but clearly couldn't get an angle on its vulnerable front, and he couldn't get enough space between them to bring it around into the other man's field of fire.

"Shepard! Get out of there!" he heard Liara yell over the comm, the beast's charge staggered for a moment by a burst of dark energy.

"I've got nowhere to go, Liara," he said, pulling the last grenade from his belt and activating it. "Armor is good, though. Thanks."

"Dammit, Shepard!"

All in all he should have been terrified, but he wasn't. Some part of the Spectre's mind was even amused in a twisted way that the Reapers had to invent some kind of new, unstoppable husk to kill him after all these years. He'd killed Sovereign. He destroyed the last abominations of the Protheans and sent their human Reaper straight to hell with them. Shepard's mind flashed back to that week he'd spent with Tali while she recovered and he felt a small smile come to his lips.

The monster had recovered its momentum and surged forward. He could only laugh darkly, tasting copper on his tongue as he did. His thumb brushed the trigger of the explosive in his hands.

"Come on, you big bastard... if I'm going to go down I'm not going alone. I just hope Harbinger can see what you see when I blow you to hell!"

A deafening boom came from overhead and creature's charge abruptly halted. The small mockery of a turian face disappeared in a fountain of sparks and gore, the enormous body having just enough momentum to crash into the ground and slide to a stop at his feet. Its ruined neck continued to pump dark fluid into the dry earth. Shepard shook his head, trying to make sense of what had just happened when a flanged voice came from above him.

"You know, boss, if you're going to do stupid things you really shouldn't do it without me around to watch your back. It's breaking tradition."

He turned and looked up to see a turian standing on top of the pre-fab, one leg propped on the edge and a massive rifle resting casually across his shoulder. Smoke still trailed from the muzzle, drifting lazily away from the blue armored form. Garrus' smirk, or what he'd learn to identify as the turian equivalent after all this time, looked supremely self-satisfied.

"Garrus! You magnificent blue_ bosh'tet_!" he laughed, holding up his arms, so happy to see the turian that he didn't even catch his use of Tali's old term for the man.

"You were expecting someone else?" the turian quipped. "Come around, it looks like they've got this place secure again."

Stepping over the dead creature he jogged around the building, meeting the rest of the team, all out of breath. Liara and Kasumi looked more than a little exhausted but to his surprise Vega looked practically invigorated.

"That was _loco_! I always thought the crap they told around the barracks was exaggerated even after I met you," the marine said, shaking his head. "But hell, Commander... you are officially the craziest _puta madre_ I know."

"My translator can't even begin to figure out what the hell you just called him, soldier, but you're right. Shepard has the market cornered on crazy," Garrus interrupted, coming around the corner of the pre-fab. "Add on luckiest, most sarcastic, and second best looking and you've got the start of a good list of Shepard's descriptors."

"Good to see you, you son of a bitch," Shepard said.

The turian extended his hand in the traditional human greeting and Shepard clasped it warmly, pulling Garrus forward into a hug that ended with both of them slapping the other hard on the back. Both were laughing when they noticed Vega looking at them oddly. He gestured towards the turian.

"Lieutenant James Vega, this is Garrus Vakarian. Best damn soldier I've ever fought with... and good enough with a sniper rifle that he even thinks he can beat me," the Spectre said, introducing the two. "Every stupid story you've heard about something I did, this guy was probably involved too... or came up with the plan in the first place."

"An honor, sir. They always talk about Shepard's team but most of the time nobody goes into specifics," Vega said, inclining his head briefly.

Garrus chuckled. "We're all so modest is all."

"And I assume you remember these other two?" Shepard asked, hooking a finger over his shoulder.

"Garrus," Liara said. The smile on her face actually reached her eyes, a rare thing these days.

"Liara. Almost feels like a reunion. You said two, though?" the turian asked quizzically.

Equally confused Shepard looked over his shoulder to find only Liara standing there, shaking her head. A sudden thump caused him to turn back to see Garrus with his handful of human thief hugging him with her feet off the ground.

"Garrus!" she practically squealed.

"I see it followed you home again," Garrus said dryly, but returned the hug, finally setting the woman down.

Kasumi's eyes narrowed under her hood. "It? Do you really want me to hack your omni-tool again to only boot up with Elcor musical pornography?"

"I retract the statement. Glad to see I was missed, Kasumi," he said, mandibles wiggling in mirth. "At least Shepard has had some old hands keep him in line."

"Always knew you were smarter than the average turian."

"What can I say, it's part of my charm," Garrus replied, turning to Shepard once more and jerking his head towards the center of the base. "So I heard you're looking for a Primarch. Want to go see if we can dig one up?"

The Spectre smirked. "Save my ass and already joining up again?"

"We nailed Saren together. You pulled my ass out of the fire on Omega then I pull your ass out of the fire on my own planet's moon. Third time's the charm... that's the human saying isn't it?" Garrus replied. "Now let's go poke a general or two and see what we can find out."

He nodded, the group marching towards what he could only assume was the command building considering the number of men milling around it. Around them soldiers were shoring up barricades and checking ammo, readying for another attack that was destined to come. Shepard glanced to his side at the turian.

"Good to have you back in the mix, Garrus."

The turian smiled. "Good to be back, Boss."

* * *

><p><em>Well, there's the latest chapter. You had to wait a little longer for it because, well, I don't get paid for this so sometimes other things take priority ;) on the upside it's the longest chapter thus far. Continued props to my beta readers for cleaning up my messes! Hope to see how you all like things as canon starts to morph a little.<em>

_Also on a random note I am a musical vagabond and one song I ran across that seemed rather appropriate for the Normandy crew was Halestorm's 'Here's to us'. Look it up sometime.  
><em>


	6. Chapter 5:  Old Soldiers

Chapter 5: Old Soldiers

"Is Victus really going to back us if we pull this off?"

"His tactics are unconventional but I've never heard of him trying to play the political game. He's an honorable man; he'll keep his word," Garrus assured him. He sat in the shuttle with his hands on his armored knees across from the Spectre.

The turian glanced back at the newest Primarch and Shepard followed his gaze. Victus had taken the co-pilot's seat in the shuttle for the trip back, staring pensively out into space while the rest of the crew was in the rear compartment. Primarch Fedorian, their original target for extraction, hadn't even survived long enough for the Normandy to make it to Palaven. His shuttle had been destroyed hours earlier but communications blackouts due to the Reaper's devastating assault had prevented that information from reaching them sooner. After much deliberation it had been determined that maverick General Adrien Victus was next in line of succession.

He could see it in the man's eyes when he told him that was needed off world. That same guilt and doubt that still hung at the back of Shepard's mind every time he closed his eyes, seeing Earth burning. Asking a man to leave his troops and his homeworld was no small thing. That same dedication to his men had been what had persuaded the old soldier, though. He was practical enough to see that the battle for Menae was one that couldn't be won, only delayed. Any hope of defeating the Reapers would require a united front. It had been refreshing to find someone that understood that simple fact.

Not that the situation hadn't come without its own complications. Victus had made the price for the Hierarchy's support clear: krogan boots on Palaven's soil. The galaxy once again needed the most brutal and devastating ground army ever assembled, but arranging that support would be an issue. Once before the krogan had been saviors and heroes, only to find their expansionist ways and war-like nature turning them into the new villains. When the turians and salarians used the genophage to check their uncontrolled growth they also created a centuries-long grudge that could override even threat of the Reapers.

"I hoped so, but I figured if anyone would give it to me straight answer..." Shepard trailed off, giving his friend a tired, lopsided smirk.

"It would be your smart-ass sidekick."

"You used the 's' word, not me. I was going to suggest that you were my 'loyal partner'."

Garrus' mandibles flared in amusement. "Partner is it now? Sure you're not going to ask me for some kind of favor? Marry a krogan to smooth things over? An organ donation maybe?"

"I figured 'Come and fight a war with me' was about as far as I could get in the favors department," he replied. "But if you've got your eye on a fetching krogan maiden don't let me stand in the way of true love."

"Spirits, I hope not. I've never even see a female krogan."

They both laughed quietly as the shuttle began to pull out of Manae's thin atmosphere. For a moment it was as if they'd just come back from any other mission. He and Garrus had always been able to have a laugh, no matter how dark things had gotten. It was good to see some things never changed, even as the hours grew steadily darker.

He was also glad to see Garrus looking less... ragged than he had during their time together on the mission to stop the Collectors. The bandages and damaged armor had been a constant reminder of what the former C-Sec agent had been through. It had made Shepard wonder if he had held onto them both longer than necessary out of guilt for the loss of his team. Now at least his armor was new and relatively pristine, considering the wartime conditions. To top it all off the bandages were completely gone, leaving the turian's scars visible along with the glint of the cybernetics that had been needed to help keep him together after nearly dying on Omega.

"Oh no..." Kasumi whispered into the silence that followed their brief back and forth.

Following her gaze they looked out the starboard window. The battle over Palaven had moved closer while they had fought on the ground, with a wing of cruisers moving to engage half a dozen of the massive Reaper capital ships. Sleek ships, like winged daggers, poured fire into the lead Reaper. Explosions danced across its hull but to little effect and there was a collectively drawn breath as its enormous appendages spread wide, a malevolent hand reaching out to destroy. The first beam shot out, piercing the nearest cruiser through and through with a single shot. There was a brilliant flare of white as its drive core overloaded in a massive blast.

It was the first death among many. The Reaper warship's lived up to their names, charging straight into the turian fleet's lines, cutting down warships with almost casual ease. One of the turian cruisers surged forward as the enemy approached, slamming directly into the oncoming Reaper rather than suffer the killing blow of its main gun. Shepard was at least slightly gratified to see the damaged length of the Reaper's hull where the turian vessel had impacted. They were devastatingly powerful, but not invincible. The moment was a minor consolation at best. Shepard sighed, bowing his head.

"Get us out of here, Cortez. We can't do anything for them except remember them when this war is over."

"Rendezvous with the Normandy in five minutes, sir. Stealth systems seem to be keeping us off their radars," the pilot replied.

Liara's voice was filled with a weariness that would have been at home in a woman far in advance of her age. "Remembered. There will be far too many that need to be remembered before this is over."

"We might not have the lifespan of your people, Dr, T'Soni... but our memories long. Those men will have a place of honor in our history as long as the Hierarchy survives," General Victus said from behind them, causing them all to turn. "It is my duty to make sure that it does."

"It's not just yours, General. This war won't end by the actions of any one person or government."

"So you said on Manae, Commander," the Primarch sighed. "My hope is that there is more left of both our worlds than ash when this all is over."

He could only nod in agreement. The battle that was outside their starboard window slowly slipped from view even as the last few ships succumbed to the Reaper's relentless onslaught. Ahead of them the Normandy's shuttle bay beckoned as Cortez brought the shuttle in. Two more soldiers left their homeworld behind.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later Victus was settling himself into the war room while the rest of the team stowed their gear. Shepard found his way to the CIC, locating Traynor at her terminal once more. Technically she had taken over the role as the ship's communications officer but with their limited crew compliment he was going to have to rely on her to fulfill quite a few jobs aboard the Normandy for the time being. At least she seemed up to the task from their initial conversation, if rather green. His biggest worry in regards to her and the other new members of the crew was stress. The current events would have weighed heavily on veteran soldiers, much less techs and young marines that had never even expected to be deployed.<p>

"Specialist," he said by way of greeting.

"Ah, Commander. I'm glad to hear the mission was a success."

"It was, even if we didn't locate our original target. How are you holding up?"

"Trying to get my bearings. When I was working on the Normandy's upgrades I left at the end of the day," she said, gesturing towards the console. "I was here when it happened, I didn't even have a toothbrush or a change of clothes until I made some emergency purchases on the Citadel."

"Did you get everything you need? We're in a bad situation but that doesn't mean you should be living without necessities, toothbrush included. I'm pretty sure we can get you one of those," Shepard suggested. "We can put in a requisition order... or more likely just buy one since I'm not sure who we'd even send an order to at this point."

"Oh no, it's alright, Commander. I'm sure you have far larger concerns. And my toothbrush is a Cision Pro Mark IV that uses tiny mass effect fields to break up plaque and massage the gums," Traynor explained sheepishly, lowering her voice to a whisper. "It costs six thousand credits."

The Spectre chuckled. "Okay, yea. You're on your own with that. Good to see you're so dedicated to oral hygiene."

The woman's face flushed. "Anyway... thank you for asking, and giving me the chance to continue to serve on the Normandy."

"You came with EDI's recommendation, hard to top that. Though I'm surprised that your primary concern is a toothbrush."

"You're not going to let me forget about that are you?" she asked, apparently just now realizing the kind of man she was dealing with.

"Definitely not, I have rules. One of them is 'never waste a good bit of embarrassing knowledge'."

Traynor shook her head but he saw a small smile on her lips. "To tell you the truth a toothbrush isn't the biggest worry I have, but I figured bursting into tears on the CIC isn't going to help anyone. Seeing the Reapers on Earth... and Palaven. It's horrifying. Like a story you're told as a child to make you be good. Except those are never supposed to actually happen."

"You're right, they're not. That's why we do what we do, to try and make sure they go back to being stories," Shepard said. "To be honest if I'd met you on the street, Traynor, I wouldn't have pegged you for military. You sound more like someone that would keep company with Liara than with Vega."

The specialist's cheeks flushed again to his surprise but before he could question it she spoke. "My parents were born on a colony in the Terminus systems, they didn't have money for university but when the Alliance saw my test scores they offered me a full scholarship. I studied at Oxford and after graduation served my required time and ended up staying. I enjoyed the challenges of the label. Though... I'm sure I'll... ah, learn to enjoy front line service as well."

He held up a hand at her hasty declaration. "It's alright. No one enjoys frontline service except psychopaths, adrenaline junkies, and people with nothing left to lose."

"Of course, sir. You just seem to take command in this sort of situation so naturally. My former CO was significantly more stressed out when just a computer database didn't respond or a systems test failed."

"I've gotten more than my fair share of practice in past few years. Which brings me to my other reason for coming to see you. Primarch Victus is going to need quarters while he's aboard and I'm not sure where to put him. I thought you might know what parts of the ship are suitable?" he asked.

"Well, we never got around to repurposing the room on the port side of life support during the refit. I'm sure we can convert them into makeshift officers quarters. I don't think turians would mind the drier air considering Palaven's climate," the specialist suggested. "Should I get techs to set up a couple of cots for now?"

"Just the one. Garrus will be bunking in the gunnery bay."

Traynor looked confused. "The gunnery bay? That area isn't rated for someone to live in... and it's sitting on top of that massive thanix cannon."

"Garrus is rather fond of that cannon. Don't worry, he'll make himself comfortable," he assured her. "Just see if you can get the Primarch settled."

The console behind the specialist beeped, causing the woman to look over her shoulder before turning her attention back to him.

"Of course, sir. I won't argue with wherever he wants to bunk. It looks like Admiral Hackett is on the QEC for you, he must have gotten my communication that your mission was complete."

"Thanks, I'll head to the war room. And remember, if you need anything that doesn't involve oral hygiene and costs more than my sidearm just ask."

She gave him a salute. "Of course, Commander."

Leaving Traynor behind, he made his way past the security checkpoint and into the war room. It was a rather redundant feature considering the Normandy's already elite nature in his opinion, anyone that made it aboard wouldn't be stopped by a pair of marines and a scanner. Primarch Victus was already studying data that had been sent to him regarding the Reaper forces at one of the rooms numerous terminals, giving him only a curt nod as he passed. Stepping into the communication room he locked the door behind him and activated the quantum communicator. To his surprise a pair of images appeared, the first was Hackett's familiar scarred face, the second was an even more welcome sight in the form of Anderson. He was wearing a standard Alliance duty uniform and a cap that looked a little dusty but no worse for the wear.

"Anderson! You managed to find a working communicator?"

"Good to see you, Shepard," the older man said. "All other communications have been cut off but we have a handful of QECs still scattered around the world that I've been able to use."

He hesitated a moment before asking the harder, but more relevant question. "And the fighting?"

The admiral shook his head. "We're just guerrillas at this point. We hit them where we can and disappear. The Reapers have started broadcasting for 'human leadership' to approach them in major cities to 'negotiate peace'."

"Indoctrination," Hackett interjected.

"Exactly. The devastation is bad, but we have learned some things," Anderson continued. "The Reapers are not exactly adaptable. We've made raids on their patrols and convoys almost a half a dozen times, all with the exact same tactic. But they don't even change their patterns. The most response we've seen is a slightly higher number of enemies in each patrol."

The other admiral nodded in agreement. "We've found the same. Their ships are massively powerful, far too strong for our fleet to take in a stand up fight. But I've made a few surgical strikes against their flanks to take pressure off of some of our fueling stations. In every instance they simply break off pursuit after a point and their response is almost always the same, firing their longer ranged guns while approaching at speed."

"Are you saying we're actually winning?" he asked in surprise.

"Winning is a strong word," Hackett cautioned. "Successfully delaying might be a better term, but their tactical inflexibility does give us more room to maneuver than I expected. It's almost as if they've done the same thing so many times that they can't just change strategies. From what we can tell the bulk of their forces are concentrated on Palaven and Earth, with significantly less strength probing at the borders of the other races."

"It's something, at least... but it makes sense now that I think about it," Shepard said, rubbing his jaw as he remembered what felt like a lifetime ago: Harbinger's words on Horizon. And, long before that, Sovereign on Virmire.

"How so?" Anderson asked.

"I don't think it's that they're just tactically inflexible," he explained. "I think it's that they literally don't think that they need to be. When I spoke to Sovereign it said that we couldn't even begin to fathom their thoughts and plans. For all these cycles they've always just come through the Citadel and spend the next century slowly wiping out planets and harvesting them."

"So why change now..." Hackett concluded, nodding to himself. "It makes a twisted kind of sense. They know that technologically they're lightyears beyond us, they've got a massive fleet, enormous amounts of ground forces…the Reapers have no reason to hurry."

"That's my best guess. And I don't think they're used to having to work this hard for one planet in the case of Palaven. The turians weren't winning, but from what I could see they were giving them hell nonetheless."

"I've gotten similar reports. One of their admirals, smart bastard that he was, actually managed to hammer some of their capital ships hard enough to drop them. On that note, what was the result of your mission?" Hackett asked. "I received word that Primarch Fedorian was KIA."

"He was, but General Victus was next in line for succession. We extracted him for the summit... but there's a new development."

Anderson spoke up. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Victus won't commit the Hierarchy fleets while Palaven is being overrun by the Reapers. He knows the battle in space is a lost cause, but he wants krogan ground troops to bolster the turian forces," Shepard said. "I've already sent a communication to Urdnot Wrex. The krogans will be at our summit."

"This definitely complicates things. There's centuries of bad blood between the krogans and the Council races. I hope you have a plan," Hackett said.

"Urdnot Wrex is a friend. If any krogan will listen it will be him."

"Then I hope friendship still means something in these times. Good luck, Commander. Hackett out."

"I have confidence in your, Shepard. You'll do what's needed," Anderson assured him.

The Spectre saluted. "You know I will, sir. Just hold on out there... when I come back it will be with a fleet and an army, no matter where I have to get it from."

His former captain returned the salute before the image pixelated and disappeared, the connection cutting out. At least it was something. There were still people fighting back on Earth. However small their numbers were it meant that hope was still alive. Now he needed to give them more reasons to hope, to hold out for the cavalry. That would begin at the upcoming summit. But first he had one more matter to attend. Shepard tapped his omni-tool.

"EDI, have Joker set course for the relay."

"Destination, Shepard?"

"We're going to Eden Prime."

* * *

><p><em>He could smell smoke, thick and cloying in the air. Around him were the burnt husks of trees, now little more than blackened, withered stalks. Embers and debris crunched beneath his feet with every step. All he could see was the endless forest of dead trees, the smoke cloaking anything else in a dull gray haze. The only sound other than his footsteps was his labored breathing. <em>

_Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, the barely-noticeable flit of a shadow. Stumbling from tree to tree he searched for any sign of life. He began to move faster, pushing forward. Then he was running. The spindly branches disintegrated into a puff of ash whenever they struck him, leaving his face streaked with black lines of charcoal. Faster and faster he ran, but nothing ever changed until he finally fell to his knees on the scorched earth, panting in exhaustion._

_"Anyone..." Shepard gasped. "Is anyone there?"_

_Movement again, just at the edge of his vision. He spun, falling back on his haunches but it was gone. Whispers seemed to move from tree to tree. Always a little too quiet to make out. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating, slowing his breathing. The whispers began to form words. Snippets and phrases._

_'Too weak...'_

_'Inevitable.'_

_'Waited. Too long.'_

_'They arrive...'_

_The longer he concentrated the louder the whispers became until he finally opened his eyes. In the haze he could see forms now, humanoid forms moving slowly towards him. Shepard pushed himself to his feet, trying to wipe away the dust and ash, succeeding only in smearing it across his sweat damp skin. His hands were almost black with the stuff._

_"Hello? Who's there?"_

_'We all are... all of us, Shepard...'_

_He turned on his heel again, a man stepping from behind one of the trees, it's thin trunk too small to have concealed his broad shoulders that were clad in a burnt and tattered Alliance uniform. A stained cap concealed his face but he recognized the stained uniform._

_"Anderson? Sir..."_

_"My greatest failure. Where were you, Shepard? At the end?"_

_The man laughed, a dry, unpleasant sound like dry parchment rubbing together. When he looked up the thing that looked back wasn't Anderson, not anymore. The weathered face that had once held grim determination tempered by kindness was lined with glowing synthetic veins, eyes glowing blue orbs. When he opened his mouth to speak it was with blackened teeth and a voice that rasped._

_"We waited for you. We all waited but you never came!"_

_"No! I'm bringing help, I-" Shepard tried to protest, backpedaling as his mentor's outstretched hands curled into claws._

_"You failed!"_

_"You gave us hope... false hope!" another, flanged voice growled to his right._

_"Not you..."_

_There was no lower jaw on the turan face that looked at him, just like the undersized head of the creature he had fought on Palaven's moon. Still, the words came out clear, if distorted, as if he was trying to speak through thick liquid. The turian's armor was streaked with dark liquid, only a few spots of its former blue showing through where massive rents exposed its inner workings._

_"Took me. Molded me... made me like you. A killer. Your right hand. You were supposed to save us, 'Boss'," the husk-like parody of his friend hissed._

_"I... this... I tried. I didn't give up! Dammit I-"_

_The gray sky turned red and darkened further, the hellish reverberating roar he had heard when Earth fell ringing in his ears. A hand grasped his shoulder, three pointed fingers digging into his flesh painfully._

_"Maybe you should have. They cannot be stopped..."_

_He yanked his head around, seeing a shattered visor, glimmering eyes filled with that same baleful blue glow. Shepard screamed._

_"No!"_

Shepard awoke instantly, soaked in sweat and almost tearing the sheets off of him in his sudden fury. He levered himself into a sitting position and tried to slow his breathing, holding his head in his hands. A faint chiming sound echoed through the room.

"Is there something wrong, Shepard?" EDI asked, sounding concerned.

"No," he said, this time far more calmly. "I'm fine. It was... nothing. What's our ETA?"

"I was about to wake you per your instructions, Commander. We have arrived in the Utopia system and are preparing to enter orbit over Eden Prime," the AI replied. "I have already completed scans and detect no Reaper presence in the area, but there is a significant amount of Cerberus chatter on local channels."

"Understood. Have the team meet me in the armory in fifteen for deployment. I'll meet them there."

"Of course. Logging you out, Commander."

He shook his head once and made his way to the shower, rubbing his eyes and trying to chase away the visions in his mind. The first real sleep he had gotten since leaving Earth and it had been anything but restful. Even as he turned the shower on he could still almost smell of the ash, looking down at his hands in reflex, expecting to see them covered in soot. He let the water, cold and piercing, wash over him. They had a mission to complete and dreams wouldn't change that.

* * *

><p>"Place looks deserted, boss," Garrus said over the comm. "I'm not even seeing any civilians."<p>

The turian was crouched on the roof of one of the semi-permanent buildings that were ubiquitous to human colonies. The pre-fabs were meant to provide shelter and safety on often-unpredictable garden worlds that were far from the Earth norm, but often they became permanent fixtures as towns rose up around them. "Waste not, want not" was a popular saying among colonists.

"Chatter has Cerberus all over Eden Prime. If they're not waiting for us then they'll be here soon. Keep your eyes peeled," he replied.

"Really, 'eyes peeled'? That doesn't even start to make sense. You'd think in three years you'd run out of nonsensical human sayings, Shepard."

He chuckled. "I try to keep it fresh. Just be your usual observant self. Speaking of observation, where exactly did you get that rifle? It looked pretty damn familiar."

"This old thing? I made some modifications," Garrus explained, sounding smug. "Not quite as much punch as the original configuration but I can get three shots out of the thermal now. And not dislocate anything. Someone just left it behind, abandoned and alone, so it only seemed right."

"I didn't want to leave anyone behind," he muttered.

There was a moment of silence on the line before Garrus responded, his voice tinged with an odd combination of concern and wry humor. "I was kidding, Boss. Just keep your head down. Your shiny new armor might be intimidating as hell but for a thief Kasumi's design tastes do not run to subtle or stealthy."

"At least she didn't make the entire thing red."

His turian companion grunted over the comm in amused agreement, apparently returning to scanning the makeshift town through the scope of his rifle. In truth he had been a little concerned about the armor himself despite its excellent workmanship until he realized that the diving phoenix splashed across his shoulder and chest in vibrant red also perfect lined up with the heavy armored pauldron. While it could act like a bullseye in a firefight anyone that shot at it would be targeting the most well protected part of the suit.

Shepard's musing was interrupted by Liara's cry of discovery.

"Here!"

Jogging up the stairs of yet another pre-fab he found the asari tapping away at the terminal within. He let his rifle drop, held in one hand pointed at the ground as he moved to look over her shoulder.

"What have you got?"

"Exactly what Kasumi's data promised, a Prothean relic," she said. "They were just getting ready to bring it up when Cerberus hit. They disabled the lift controls and data-logging but I'm bringing them back up now."

Kasumi had her omni-tool open next to the console, scanning through lines of code. "Uh, Shep... we're probably going to have company. As soon as Liara re-activated the elevator I got a spike of outgoing data."

"Not exactly unexpected," he said, opening his comm to the squad channel. "Heads up, we've likely got incoming. Vega, take position with Garrus and lay down suppressive fire. Liara and Kasumi will come with me to secure the target."

A pair of affirmatives echoed immediately as the trio jogged outside to where the excavation elevator was climbing with excruciating slowness. He scanned the skyline but didn't detect an immediate hostiles. The immediate area was at least somewhat defensible with a high point for Garrus and Vega, while there were numerous transport containers that would provide adequate protection from anything short of anti-vehicle and high explosive weaponry. With luck Cerberus wouldn't come calling with missile launchers.

"Here we go. One Prothean... boxy coffin... uh, thing?" Kasumi said as the lift finally arrived.

"Goddess!"

The object in question was roughly eight feet long at first glance, rectangular with smooth edges and clearly visible seams. At the base he could see a small, cracked image display that flickered. He had seen something like it before a lifetime ago, endless ranks of exact copies even, but each had been as dead as the next.

"Liara is that what I think it is?" he asked.

"I... it is. I cannot believe it, but it is!" the asari stammered, running her hands across its surface. She crouched at the end, looking at the display. "It still has power! I can only read some of this but... it appears completely intact."

Kasumi cocked her head, looking between Spectre and excited asari. "Someone want to clue me in?"

"It's a stasis pod, Kasumi. A functioning one. The Protheans had hundreds of thousands of them on Ilos but the VI that maintained the facility was forced to disable them one by one to preserve power," he explained quietly. "By the time we arrived the last pod had lost power over a thousand years before. The VI had just enough energy to give us a final warning from the Protheans about the Reapers. I thought it was their final message in a bottle."

"Whoa. So you mean there's an actual Prothean in that thing?" she asked incredulously. "Shep, I've heard a lot of crazy things from you but... fifty thousand years and it's still working?"

"Not for long," Liara interrupted. "When we brought it up it was disconnected from the main power source. It's running on reserves now and it doesn't seem to have many of those. Damn!"

"What's wrong?"

"Shepard I can't just read Prothean and navigate their computer system. If I do this wrong... interrupt the stasis too early or do the sequence wrong... I could kill the last living Prothean!"

"Then I guess it's a good thing you've got someone that can read Prothean, huh?" he said with a smirk, kneeling next to her and examining the small screen.

It was cracked and dust was caked in the recessed edges but it was legible. The Cipher, long forgotten, rushed back to the front of his mind. For a moment it was just a rush of images, those same horrific visions he had seen the very first time he had set foot on this world when he had leapt in front of the beacon. He shook it off, focusing on the task at hand. The symbols looked foreign and familiar all at once but he seemed to instinctively know what to do.

Vega's voice briefly interrupted his work. "We've got incoming, _loco_!"

"The kid's right, two shuttles. They're going to be right on top of us in a matter of minutes. What the hell are you three doing down there?" Garrus asked.

"Found a Prothean. Getting him out of stasis. Talk in a minute," he responded curtly.

Garrus made what was likely the most bird-like sound he had ever heard from the man, something that sounded like a cough and squawk, followed by a string of curse words that didn't translate. In the back of his mind he lamented not being able to focus on it enough to make a comment.

"You found a_ what_?"

He ignored the comment, however, and left Garrus to wonder. The last stage of the resuscitation process flashed on the screen and he keyed in the necessary codes. His reward was multiple panels on the capsule popping open to release frigid air with a hiss, creating a faint fog around the statis unit's base. It had already begun its work, equalizing pressure, injecting the occupant with a pre-mixed cocktail of tailored drugs, and monitoring temperature. Finally the seam down the middle began to split open until the capsule was fully opened.

Kasumi gasped. "_Aremaa_!"

Within was a familiar silhouette, Shepard had seen it over and over again on Horizon: the Collectors. But while the head was the same broad, half shell shape and sported four eyes that was where the similarities ended. Where the Collectors had been a uniform chitinous brown shot through with imbedded cybernetics and baleful yellow eyes this alien had sea green skin that faded to almost white beneath his throat. When his eyes blinked open Shepard saw gold irises and a quartet of hourglass shaped pupils.

"Shepard, remember it's been fifty thousand years to us but to him it will be like it just happened," Liara warned. "We don't have any idea of how he'll react."

"Uh... hey, we're here to help," he said lamely, realizing the long sleeping prothean wouldn't even understand him.

Instead he tried something he hoped was a universally friendly gesture, setting his weapon down against the side of the capsule and extended his hand, palm up, gesturing the other two away with the other. The prothean's eyes finally focused. And then he found himself knocked off his feet by a surge of biotic energy. The pulse felt strange and the flash of light was a vivid green rather than the blue glow he was familiar with but the effect was still the same. It had staggered both the others and sent his rifle flying off the elevator platform. Awkwardly the prothean pulled himself - Shepard assumed it was a he at least - from coffin-like device, falling to his hands and knees as soon as he made it outside.

"Where..." he heard the kneeling form muttering, growing louder with each word. "Victory. Victory! Where are you?"

He understood the words, even though what he heard sounded guttural but flowing. Sounds that he shouldn't be able to identify but yet made perfect sense. The Cipher certainly provided for an odd sensation, like a translator reading over another person's words with a moment's delay. Liara and Kasumi had their weapons out but he shook his head.

"Can you understand me?" he asked, pushing himself to his feet as the prothean did the same.

Four eyes locked with his two and the prothean stumbled forward, three fingered hands grasping Shepard's shoulders. Instantly images flooded his mind, flashes of single moments and brief continuous memories. He saw a facility, it looked like what Ilos must have been like before thousands of years of neglect. The prothean was there, speaking to a VI that he called 'Victory'. The stasis pod. Victory's voice in his ear telling him the facility was damaged, that power would have to be diverted. No, telling the prothean. Javik was his name. And then a surge of rage. Powerful, soul burning rage.

Both men gasped and staggered backwards. The prothean spoke first.

"How many?"

This time he realized, much to his surprise, that the prothean was speaking english. He could already see Liara's eyes widening and Kasumi looking equally perplexed.

"You're the only one. I'm sorry," Shepard replied sadly. "You can speak my language?"

"I have touched your mind. It was... easy. Far easier than I would have expected," Javik replied, seeming to shake once to compose himself before turning to look at the other two. The confusion in his gaze was evident, but quickly disappeared as he gained his bearings. "Human... asari... I am surrounded by primitives?"

He ignored the primitives comment. "I saw your mind too. The Reapers were breaching your facility. Your name is Javik, you were... a soldier?"

"I am a soldier," the prothean stated firmly. "I saw more in your mind. You fight the same war as my people. You fight the Reapers."

Javik certainly looked the part of the warrior, clad in armor the color of red wine that reminded him of images taken of ancient samurai on Earth. The brief look at the prothean's memories only confirmed that. While clearly Javik had garnered the lion's share of information in the exchange he still had a taste of the man's life. It was one that seemed to begin and end with conflict. He nodded in response to the question.

"I do. We're fighting them across the galaxy even as we speak. And we need all the help we can get. I wish I could provide better news or give you more time but this area isn't safe. Will you join us?"

"My people are gone... but the same war still rages. I will join you, for now."

"Shepard! Incoming!" Garrus barked over the comm.

"Where?"

A shuttle roared overhead but didn't stop, instead troopers in familiar white and gold armor fell from the sky. Flames and smoke poured from their backs before they hit the ground, some kind of retro-thrusters. He hadn't been expecting that consider the Alliance had given up on the idea years ago, mostly due to the fact that dropping a soldier out of a ship with what amounted to a bomb on his back wasn't considered viable. Clearly the Illusive Man had no such qualms.

"What is this? These appear to be humans as well. Your own people fight you?" Javik asked in amazement.

"Long story, they're not friends. We've got to get out of here. Did you get enough from my memories to know how to use one of these?"

Shepard held out a pistol but the prothean merely shook his head, reaching into the stasis module and producing a pair angular looking rifles, throwing one at him. He caught the weapon and wrapped his hand around the grip. The trigger guard was clearly meant for a much larger finger than his own and it all felt a little awkward, but it was definitely useable.

"Keep your sidearm, human. Better to question if you can use one of these," Javik said.

Not waiting for an answer the prothean turned to the approaching Cerberus troops, raising the rifle to his shoulder and taking aim. Without hesitation he opened fire. A beam of brilliant green streaked out, catching the first trooper full in the chest, lingering for a brief second before slicing right through the armor. Javik fired off a few more quick 'bursts', second long shots that seemed to have devastating effect, dropping one more soldier and piercing straight through the arm of another.

"I don't know what the heck you got going on down there but it's one hell of a light show, Commander," Vega said, the sound of his rifle discharging briefly overriding the sound of his voice.

"Just drop them, we've got some support here but I don't want to get overrun!" he ordered.

Shepard brought the strange rifle up and sighted down its length, though the only real 'sight' on the thing seemed to be a single front post. Depressing the trigger he heard a high pitched keen a fraction of a second before the beam shot out. He raked it across an unlucky Cerberus soldier and was rewarded with seeing a smoking trail cut across the man's chest before he fell backwards.

"Fire in short bursts," Javik instructed. "Sustained fire will do considerable damage but rapidly outstrips the weapon's capacity to dissipate heat."

Following the prothean's instructions he gave the trigger half second to second pulls, adding in the fire from Liara and Kasumi to quickly drop the initial assault. There was no real recoil to speak of and it had tremendous accuracy. He could have walked into Alliance command two years ago and dropped a weapon like this on the table and he'd have been promoted to captain within the week. Pointing the rifle at the sky as soon as the skirmish was over, he nodded appreciatively.

"Not entirely sure how it works, but I'm definitely a fan."

Javik looked at him with an expression that he assumed was the prothean equivalent of confusion. "It is a neutral particle accelerator powered by a dual micro-fusion power source and utilizing a supercooling gas vent system. A weapon costly in resources for an single warrior but necessary. The Reapers cut off all supply lines during the Great War and thus such weapons were the only viable alternatives. You do not have these?"

"Wow, too bad Garrus didn't hear that. That much gun lingo and he'd probably have needed to change his armor," Kasumi said in amusement. "I'm pretty sure not even Cerberus' best egg heads have got something like those, though."

The prothean turned his attention to the young woman. "I do not understand."

"It... is not important. What is important is there is a living prothean. Shepard we have to get back to the Normandy's immediately. The Crucible plans... the other devices we could retrieve from the archive files! Think of it!" Liara said.

"I am no scientist, I am a warrior. But I will provide you with any knowledge that assists in stopping the Reapers. You have transport? A... good ship?"

Shepard smiled. "The best."

* * *

><p>"You found a prothean and he gave you a laser gun? That sounds like the plot of a bad simustim film!" Garrus said, throwing up his hands.<p>

"He's in the cargo bay now if you need to confirm it for yourself again. He took over Grunt's old stomping grounds. You saw him on the shuttle ride back, though," Shepard replied. "And it's a particle gun. Not quite the same."

"Spirits! It's close enough. I. Want. One."

He smirked evilly. "Sorry, there were only two in the stasis pod and I don't think Javik is giving his up."

"You are a cruel human," the turian sighed.

"So I've been told."

Garrus' tone turned serious. "What about this prothean, though? Fifty thousand years later, his entire race gone. He's taking it pretty well. I mean you'd think Liara had just been given... I don't know whatever asari girls get when they're adolescents that makes them really happy. But that combination of revelations doesn't sound like a good recipe for a guy with access to heavy firepower inside a ship."

"I know, but... something about him tells me that won't be a problem," Shepard replied. "He did something, sort of like the asari and their ability to touch people's minds. And I saw a little of his. There's rage there, Garrus. But it's not 'murderous rampage' rage. It's almost pure. Like a religious calling."

"I'll take your word for it. Just wanted to point that out so I can say 'I told you so' if things start exploding."

Kasumi had immediately disappeared once they had returned to the ship. For some reason he was almost certain she was writing all of these events down in a journal or the like. Liara had of course been nearly bouncing in her seat, rambling off questions that Javik had mostly ignored or answered in short, clipped answers. Vega had mostly just spent the ride staring. Shepard couldn't say he blamed him. Now the prothean had sequestered himself in Grunt's old section of the starboard cargo hold with the few possessions that had been in the stasis pod and Liara had gone to check on EDI's progress with decrypting the information from the Cerberus synthetic.

He and Garrus had just made it to the elevator when a shudder ran through the deck, causing them both to look at the other in confusion. A second later the lights flicked, died, and then came back on at full strength.

"That can't be good."

Joker's voice came over his omni-tool, confirming that sentiment. "Commander. EDI just went off line and I've got systems powering on and off at random!"

"Sir, there's a fire in the AI core!" Traynor said immediately after the pilot finished speaking. "Donnelly and Adams are on their way with fire suppression gear! I'm trying to reboot systems as quickly as they go offline but I have no idea what's happening."

"AI core?" Garrus asked.

He nodded. "AI core."

Ignoring the elevator they ran to opposite ends of the shuttle bay, Shepard snatching a shotgun off the armory's rack as he ran, hitting the emergency hatches and climbing up. Both of them raced upwards, past the engineering deck and finally emerging on the crew deck to meet in front of the medbay. They stepped inside to see Donnelly and Adams at the doors, a pair of marines standing just behind them and Chakwas looking on with concern.

"What's our status?"

"Internal systems kicked in to try and drown out the fires," Adams said.

"And aye jus got tha door override ta work," Donnelly finished. "I hit this here button and yer in, but I dunnay know what's going on in there."

He nodded at Garrus, thumbing the activation switch on the shotgun as the turian did the same for the pistol in his hands. Shepard glanced over at Donnelly.

"Do it."

The doors hissed open and a wall of steam and smoke billowed out, causing the two engineers to backpedal in coughing fits. He and Garrus didn't move at all, weapons raised. The spectre could smell the acrid scent of melted plastic and the chemicals used by the fire suppression system. He could just make out a silhouette in the haze. A feminine one. He silently cursed himself for not having the synthetic properly secured. Now it might have cost him the very soul of his ship.

"I can at least put you down for good," he growled quietly, raising the shotgun.

A familiar voice answered calmly. "That will not be necessary, Shepard."

Stepping out of the fog was indeed the sleek, silver form of the Cerberus synthetic that had nearly killed Ashley and caused the death of countless people on Mars. The artificial skin had been burned away in the crash, only leaving the smooth undercoat of polymers and metal. It looked for all the world like a woman in a skin tight silver body suit. But the holographic visor he had noticed before was a warm orange color now and the eyes behind it were burning blue, but rather looked much more human. She stopped a few feet from them, placing a hand on her hip as she continued.

"I apologize for not warning you ahead of time, Commander. But it is good to finally meet you... in the flesh? I believe that was the correct expression."

It took him a second to realize his mouth was open.

"EDI?"


	7. Chapter 6: Negotiations

Chapter 6: Negotiations

"A living prothean and now the ship's AI has a body. It's official. New weirdest day on the Normandy... I'm going to go see if there's still a bar in that lounge. This is all you, boss. Good luck!"

Shepard tossed Garrus a dirty look before the turian left, waving the engineers and security team away. The smoke was already disappearing, leaving EDI's svelte new form standing before him expectantly. His tired mind vacillated between a number of possible reactions before he finally marshaled his senses enough to form a coherent sentence.

"EDI this is... well, amazing. But we thought we'd lost you for a minute there. I think Joker is about to have kittens up on the bridge."

"The act of feline procreation seems an odd analogy for Jeff's state of being. Unfortunately I did not have sufficient time to inform yourself or Jeff of what was happening. When I attempted to access Dr. Core's primary data processes I activated a backup routine," the AI explained impassively. "It attempted to subvert the Normandy's systems and attack my own processes and I was forced to destroy the other AI. It... did not go quietly."

"You mean you had to kill 'her'?"

Seeing an actual face to put to EDI's words was a strange experience. She lacked many of the physical cues he would have expected from an organic, making the experience even more eerie. Even as she spoke he could see her attempting to mimic some of those movements. He wondered whether it was voluntary or simply another part of her growing, adaptive programming. The way her head tilted, the synthetic tone of her voice softening, Shepard thought it almost sounded like she was expressing regret.

"There was no other method by which I could ensure the Normandy's safety. Like my own systems, the 'Dr. Core' persona was built partially with Reaper code. Only by neutralizing her completely could I eliminate the threat she posed. While my personality matrix was not encoded with standard human emotions, the best description I can assign to the sensation was that it was 'unpleasant'."

Shepard gave her a sad but reassuring smile. "It always is, EDI. Seems like everything turned out okay, but... does this mean you're in there now?"

"I am in both places, Commander, but my self awareness is tied into systems throughout the Normandy. Consider this body more like a... mobile terminal. I still reside within the Normandy itself, but this form provides a new way to interact with the crew and outside environments," she explained, cocking her head. "I am eager to evaluate this body's capabilities. Initial diagnostics indicate I would be able to provide limited ground fire support and technical assistance, though I would remain most effective when within tightbeam range of the Normandy."

"Wait, are you saying you want to be part of the ground team?" he asked in surprise.

"You have already seen what this synthetic form is capable of, Shepard. It is more resilient than a comparable organic with equivalent or greater strength and speed," EDI pointed out. "In addition, even if this platform sustains critical damage, my consciousness would remain safe within the Normandy."

It was an intriguing thought, one that was worrying at the same time. The idea that there would be a member of his team that he didn't have to worry about every time their boots touched ground, wondering if the next bullet would be the one to finally end their streak of luck, that he'd have to bury another friend... it was seductive. But something about it almost felt too easy. Like war had lost its inherent risk, become too easy. With just EDI it wasn't a problem but in the back of his mind he could already hear the voice of the military and politicians when they eventually found out about it. Talks about 'minimal risk' to living soldiers, ideas to 'revolutionize warfare' and create 'bloodless conflicts'. The idea might even get the Council to think twice about the ancient AI ban... he shook his head, trying to pull himself out of that downward spiraling trend of thoughts.

"Just... tread carefully around the crew. This is going to come as something of a shock."

"I will. I think I will go visit Jeff first so that he can see my new form. I expect he will be pleased. Also, due to your non-committal but positive statement am I correct in assuming you are considering my proposal?"

He laughed. "Well, we agree about Joker at least. As far as coming on missions, I'll consider it. Run tests, make sure there aren't any more surprises in there. But if it comes back clean I'll bring you on the next mission as a test run."

"Thank you, Shepard."

Still a little nonplussed at the entire situation, he was at least amused by Chakwas' wide eyed stare as EDI casually sauntered out of the medical bay and towards the elevator. Moving into the medbay as well, he could only give a shrug at the doctor's questioning gaze.

"I expect the same reaction from most of the crew but there isn't much to be done for it."

"I suppose that's true, I just hope I don't have to deal with half a dozen panic attacks because there's a now completely mobile AI stalking the halls," she responded dryly.

"Joker, maybe, but I don't think his reaction will be a panic attack per se..."

Chakwas laughed, apparently recovering from the shock quickly. "I can only imagine. I must say it's good to be back on the Normandy, Commander. There are always surprises; but it feels like home."

"We're glad to have you back," he said. "I'm going to check on our new guest. I want to give him some time to adjust and then I'll get him up here for a once-over. Another first, doc... first human to give a prothean a physical."

The smile on his face was genuine for once. Chakwas had been nursing the wounds of Normandy's crew since he'd taken command. It felt right that she was here now, acting like a mother hen with Joker's medications and preparing for the worst with an understanding smile on her face.

"Don't think you're getting away that easily," the doctor chastised, dragging him back towards one of the medical beds with a hand on his arm. "I haven't even given you a 'once-over' yet, so you're not going to distract me with a previously-extinct species."

"I'm the same as I was six months ago when we did this."

"Mhm. Now are you going to sit still so I can scan you?"

Doctor Chakwas might not have been a soldier in the same way as many of the Normandy's crew but she could usually stare down the best of them. He finally just nodded, letting her go about her work. It wasn't anything particularly time consuming, just scans and the occasional question.

"Well... I'm still seeing no signs of rejection from your implants, so that's good. Dr. Letha had sent me her findings from the examination after we returned from the Collector base," she said. He could detect the faint hitch in her voice at the word 'Collector', likely still unpleasant memories of her time after the abduction.

"See? I told you, I'm fine. Same as before," he assured her.

The smile on her was the same one he always saw when she was humoring a stubborn patient. Needless to say it was a familiar sight. Chakwas brushed aside a lock of steel colored hair and shook her head.

"Not quite the same, Commander. There are a dozen fewer people on this ship than when you left and last time you hadn't just spent six months under confinement. You might find this hard to believe – but, over the years, I have gotten fairly good at detecting symptoms that you people try to hide. For example, I can tell that you're exhausted. If I had to bet you probably haven't logged an entire eight hours of sleep since we left Earth. Am I wrong?"

Shepard frowned, but realized there was little point in lying. "I haven't slept well. And there have been things that needed doing."

"Things that needed doing? Or things you needed to do so you didn't stop long enough to think about anything else? This mission is already going to be unforgiving. If you're exhausted along with all the regular stresses that come with what you do we both know what will happen."

"I have a job to do, doctor. A few nights of poor sleep won't change that," he replied calmly, hopping down from the medical bed. "I assure you, I'm perfectly fit for duty."

"Four days straight searching news articles, physical training, reviewing old files from the Collector base. Even watching footage of the Battle of the Citadel. Not sleeping, I suspect only limited trips to the the mess hall as well," Chakwas said, rattling off a quick summation of his days.

His eyes narrowed, actually feeling a twinge of anger. "Have you been... checking up on me?"

"EDI has access to every system aboard the _Normandy_ and I have medical authorization. I consider it necessary outpatient care."

"I was unaware your degree included psychology," Shepard replied. "My extranet searches shouldn't concern anyone, especially since they're my business. If you're going to snoop I'll try to search for more interesting things to keep you entertained."

Shepard had done his best to control his frustration but he knew that the statement had come off more than a little acidic. Turning he headed for the medical bay doors once more.

"I'm sure you will. Possibly 'Tali'Zorah vas Normandy' if you're looking for suggestions?"

He stopped in his tracks, fists clenching out of reflex as he spoke through gritted teeth. "Do you have a point, doctor?"

"Just that. Six months and you don't even type her name into a terminal. I know EDI didn't scrub that information, she's honestly quite poor at lying," Chakwas said. "And don't tell me that it didn't matter to you. You slept by that girl's beside for a week when she was injured. So why, now that you're free, have you not even asked Liara about her whereabouts?"

"And do what?" Shepard snapped, turning around to face her once more. "I practically told her that she didn't matter in the grand scheme of things when I turned myself in. And she left crying. What do I do now? Send her an extranet message: 'Sorry, I was an idiot. The Reapers are invading, want to have dinner? Sincerely, that guy that almost got you killed and then left you at an airlock.'. That's your suggestion?"

Chakwas laughed quietly. "It would be a start."

"No, I chose the wrong path and I paid for it," he replied bitterly. "She's safer on the Migrant Fleet than anywhere else in this galaxy now that the Reapers are here. Maybe it wasn't the wrong choice for her."

Before the doctor could offer a reply he had finally made his exit, the doors closing behind him.

* * *

><p>By the time he had reached the engineering deck a few hours later Shepard had calmed himself enough not to viciously jab the controls. Removing his armor, checking war reports, and finally setting them on course for the summit was at least enough of a distraction to diffuse his anger. He already regretted his outburst. Chakwas had always done her best to look out for the <em>Normandy<em>'s crew like it was her family. More than one of his crew, including himself, owed her their lives. But he didn't need reminders of the past right now. An ironic thought considering who he was going to visit.

The prothean had taken Grunt's old quarters, occupying the starboard storage room. The first thing he noticed upon entering was just how spartan the room appeared. Before the _Normandy_ had been surrendered to the Alliance there had been an odd collection of metal crates, Grunt's tank, and various items the krogan had found of interest during his learning phase after gaining consciousness aboard the _Normandy_. Now it was nearly bare, a single console set up at the opposite end of the room along with a military style cot that had clearly been liberated from the hold. Javik's rifle was resting carefully on the polished steel desk with the only other item the prothean had brought with him: a faintly glowing rectangular crystal floating above a round disk emitting the same sort of light.

"Human... Commander," Javik corrected himself. "Is there conflict already?"

"No, I was just coming to see how you were settling in."

The prothean's back was to him still and he heard the sound of dripping water. Javik had apparently acquired a large basin from somewhere in the ship, the mess hall most likely, and had filled it. As Shepard watched he lightly shook his hands to remove the excess moisture before finally turning to face him.

"In the past hours a few of your crew have approached me, I believe wishing to offer overtures of 'friendship'. That is not my purpose here," he stated. "I also find I need to wash my hands often in this place. Every item I touch in this place seems to carry the residue of your crew. I sense... a drell. Many humans. Even a krogan that once shared these quarters."

"I don't understand how you can sense that. It's been months since any of them were aboard. Asari can touch someone's mind, but only if they're touching them, and even then it's nothing as quick or simple as what you did on Eden Prime."

"There are always traces left behind," Javik explained, pacing slowly. "Genetic material and things less tangible, thoughts, emotions. The physical I can smell and taste. The rest I can simply feel. I have absorbed your language but there is no word for it. It is an ability all of my people possessed. It made us excellent hunters."

"I can imagine," he said. "Evolution is an amazing thing."

The prothean made a sound that almost sounded amused. "Our scientists believed it was the only force in the galaxy that mattered. They called it the 'Cosmic Imperative'. The strong flourished and the weak perished... quite unlike the governments of your cycle. They seem overly concerned with the survival of all."

"They believe that the needs of the many are what's important."

"A waste. Extinction is the law of the cosmos, you need only look around to see it on countless worlds, the same pattern playing out again and again. The weak are only useful as tools to for the strong... something this cycle will need to learn. Sacrifice a weak race and while the Reapers are occupied with them they are not paying attention to you."

Shepard's mouth was set in an impassive line as he spoke. "And who decides who the weak and the strong are?"

"They decide for themselves," Javik replied, waving a hand dismissively. "You have already seen this. Those that would capitulate, seek peace and appeasement have already shown their true worth. When the time comes, if you wish to have a chance of winning this war, you will have to sacrifice those weak ones to give the strong a chance to marshal their forces."

"A brutal, if pragmatic, way of looking at the world."

"A necessary one. Though I do not think your asari approves of my views."

"She's not 'my' asari. Her name is Liara," Shepard corrected. "And I think she just had a different vision of what your people were like."

"We are shaped by the world which we are born into. Had I been born early in this cycle perhaps I would be the noble scholar she wishes me to be."

"Or maybe you'd still have been a soldier. That much war... it must have changed you."

"It shaped me as a stone is sculpted by water. I have taken many lives. Seen much death," the prothean agreed, fixing his eyes on Shepard's own. "But when I touched your mind I sensed that you have done the same."

"I've always done what needed to be done," he responded curtly.

Javik shook his head. "You speak as if you should be ashamed to have done so. In my cycle, you would have been heralded as a great warrior, deserving of praise. We are much the same, Commander. War is our sculptor and we are prisoners of its design. I can only hope that your cycle will fare better than my own."

The prothean had moved back to his basin of water, running it over his hands once more while Shepard rolled his thoughts in his head, pacing slowly himself now.

"It will. My life hasn't just been changed by war... it was changed the moment I touched that beacon, the one that gave me the first visions of your people. My path was set then, leading me down this road. The only way off that path for either of us is to destroy the Reapers once and for all."

The look that Javik gave him was appraising. "That path offers many choices, Commander. And many sacrifices. Are you prepared to make those sacrifices to ensure victory?"

"I am."

Javik's fingertips touched his forehead before he could even react. There was another brief flash, visions of worlds torn asunder by monolithic warships, clouds of smoke and ash blotting out the sun and the stench of the dying clinging in his nostrils. Then it was over, the prothean stepped away. He almost yelled at the ancient warrior, demanding to know what gave him the right... but he didn't. The part of him had seen into Javik's mind understood that it wasn't something that was casually done or often repeated.

"You speak the words and... maybe you are. But there is doubt in you, and foolish notions of nobility still hiding in the corners of your mind," the prothean said. "You must extinguish that misguided hope and replace it with a resolve of steel, Commander, if you are to be the one to win this war. You must be ready to sacrifice armies. Friends. Lovers. Even worlds. History may label you a butcher, but only if there are those left to write it."

"Don't worry about that, Javik. There's nothing holding me back anymore," he assured the warrior.

He heard the anger in his own voice and wondered if it was his own or if it came from touching the mind of the prothean. Shepard had felt that nearly infinite pool of rage on their first contact, but it was deep: like a great underground lake. In the end it didn't matter, the two might have been one and the same, Javik's mind only a mirror of his own. He moved towards the door, the conversation clearly over, making the prothean one last promise as he left.

"One way or the other the cycle will be broken. I swear it."

Javik nodded.

"Then maybe we can both be free of the path that has directed our fates."

* * *

><p>Less than a day later the <em>Normandy<em> arrived in an out of the way system in the Annos Basin, gliding through space with her stealth systems active. The location of the war summit had been chosen only eighteen hours earlier and in a system with no inhabited planets or asteroids. Sensors picked up over half a dozen vessels, two of them turian cruisers along with a heavy frigate that bore no markings of affiliation, and one of them an enormous dreadnought. Salarian, it would appear, from the curved and flowing hull.

"Holy shit."

"Don't tell me you're looking at Fornax while piloting again, Joker."

"Commander! One time..." the pilot grumbled, pointing at the screen. "I was surprised because of this. Look. How many ships show up on sensors?"

He leaned over the pilot's chair and counted.

"Six. Four cruisers, two frigates..."

"See the problem?"

"The dreadnought. The damn thing has stealth capabilities?" he asked in surprise.

Joker shrugged. "That or EDI's just messing with me."

"I would not 'mess' with you in such a fashion, Jeff. The salarian dreadnought appears to be using a stealth system similar to the _Normandy_'s. I am detecting no residual heat or radiation signatures. If we did not have visual confirmation we would not know it was there," EDI said.

Normally such a comment would have come from a glowing blue orb. It was certainly a change of pace to look to his right and see a physical form there looking back, a face with expressions and nuances. Joker was apparently equally enthralled even after having the better part of a day to get used to her presence, smirking broadly every time he looked over.

"By the way, Commander, I'm going to say again I totally had no idea. But, also; totally not complaining."

"Uh huh," he grunted skeptically. "Drop us out of stealth and announce our presence. We need to get this show on the road."

"We have already been hailed by the Turian delegation. I have confirmed that Primarch Victus is safely aboard," EDI said. "The other vessels belong to the volus and krogan, while the dreadnought is of course for the salarian delegation. The SSV Agincourt is also present."

Joker rolled his eyes.

"Of course. Because who else would make stealth dreadnoughts that look like giant fish."

"If they work on the Reapers I don't care what they look like. Get those people aboard, I'll be waiting with Victus in the conference room. And EDI, ask Javik to join us."

"Of course, Shepard."

In truth he had hoped for more. The asari Councilor had already informed him of their own intention not to attend, believing that no military alliance could be formed of a group containing the krogan along with their ancient enemies, the turians and salarians. She had made it clear that she considered the entire effort a waste of time and that the asari would concentrate on defending their own borders. Three of the four Council races was nothing to scoff at, but they needed every ship and soldier they could get.

Even as the various representatives were boarding EDI was feeding him information. Chatter that she'd intercepted between the salarian dalatrass and other vessels did not bode well. Apparently he was going to have to continue to play politics while the the galaxy burned. He decided to at least take advantage of what he could, waiting in the conference room already seated with Primarch Victus. He had instructed Javik to wait in the war room unless he called. The prothean would make an excellent shock tactic and give him a great deal of leverage... but he hated to tip his hand that early. Javik's very existence was one more edge they had against the Reapers and the longer they were in the dark about it the better.

Unsurprisingly, Hackett was the first to arrive.

"Admiral," Shepard said, extending his hand to greet the older man warmly.

Hackett returned the gesture with a firm grip.

"Shepard, good to see you in the flesh again. I wish it was under better circumstances."

"So do I. Admiral, this is Primarch Victus."

The turian stood and he was surprised to the Admiral immediately go for the more traditional forearm grip when he greeted the man. Clearly the gesture earned him some points as Victus gave him a respectful nod.

"Admiral. A strange day. Thirty years ago this sort of meeting was the result of us warring with each other. Now we face a common enemy," Victus said. "Times change quickly. You speak for all of your people?"

There was a note of skepticism in the turian's voice. Not terribly surprising, though, as most turians thought of humans as factitious and overly individualistic. The idea that that a single person would speak for them likely seemed odd. But then the only time they had seen a united front was during the First Contact War in the infancy of the Systems Alliance.

"I do. All of Earth's remaining military forces will follow my command. Our remaining colonies will do the same. We're fighting for survival, Primarch."

The doors opened once more and Shepard couldn't suppress a smile as an enormous, familiar form lumbered into the room. A deep laugh filled the relatively small room as the krogan approached, grabbing his offered arm in a firm grip.

"Shepard!"

"Wrex," he replied, earning another chuckle.

"Never thought this day would come, but here I am. I told you when the time came the krogan would answer the call," Wrex said.

"I never doubted you. Wrex, this is Admiral Hackett and Primarch Victus."

Wrex examined both carefully, smirking at Hackett. "Good scars. You've seen battle, human. I like that. This is how a war should be fought; by warriors, not politicians."

"The politicians are supposed to prevent the war in the first place," Victus interjected. "But this time there's no peace possible."

The krogan grunted. "At least you figured that out. Who are we waiting on?"

"Them," Shepard said, gesturing at the opening door.

Two figures entered, the first was round and squat, shuffling into the conference room. The volus did not cut impressive physical figures, but they had made their way in the galaxy with ambition and a keen grasp of economics, almost single handedly helping establish the Turian Hierarchy as a major economic power after accepting the invitation to join the Hierarchy as a client race. The second figure was wearing robes much like those worn by the salarian Councilor, though colored differently. If the moniker hadn't been enough of a clue EDI had informed him that Dalatrass Linron was, indeed, female. A first for Shepard. Looking at her he could only conclude there wasn't a great deal of difference. Her face seemed slightly more elongated than the males of her species and she was definitely taller by a few inches, but that was where the differences ended.

Once they had all taken seats around the table he spoke.

"Thank you all for coming. I don't think I need to explain the threat that we're currently facing."

"No... ah... we are well aware... ah... of the power of the Reapers," the volus said, sucking in breaths within his environment suit. For some reason the volus as a whole seemed perpetually out of breath. "One of our commerce stations... ah... was destroyed hours ago. I am Kun Raken. I am authorized by the Protectorate to make any... ah... necessary decisions as our ambassador."

"We're glad for any support you can provide."

Hackett cleared his throat. "The simple fact of the matter is that to have any chance of successfully stopping the Reaper advance we are going to need more than financial support or even ships."

"What do you propose?" the dalatrass asked.

The Admiral nodded and Shepard opened his omni-tool, causing an image of the Crucible to spring to life.

"I have already shown this to the Council, but they were too stubborn to see the need for unity. This is what we call the Crucible. A weapon designed by the protheans to stop the Reapers. It's a massive undertaking - it will require time and resources to build. Time the Reapers won't simply give us."

"Hmm... a weapon?" Wrex peered closely at the image.

"As best we can tell," Hackett confirmed. "The potential energy output is massive and all records from the prothean archive indicate they were certain that the weapon would end the invasion."

Shepard picked up where he left off. "The issue is that we can't build something like this in a week. Or even a month. We can get started fabricating parts, but assembly, testing... we need a base of operations for that. And while we're doing that we need to keep the Reapers engaged."

"Which is why you need our fleets?" Victus suggested dryly.

"The Hierarchy has the largest fleet in Council space, even with the losses you've already suffered you probably have half again the ships and manpower that we have left," Admiral Hackett said. "We can fight the Reapers - we're learning new tactics every day - but we can't do it alone."

The Primarch rested his elbows on the table, looking toward Hackett before focusing his attention on Wrex.

"I spoke to Commander Shepard about this already. I'm willing to provide our fleets to this grand alliance, but not while the Reapers grind our homeworld into dust. This war is a ground war now and to have a chance of holding them on Palaven we need powerful support. We need the krogan."

He could see Wrex's nostrils flare, eyes narrowing.

"You want our help, turian? And what makes you think if I sent soldiers to your world they wouldn't just jam a blade between your plates? Did you forget the genophage? Because we certainly haven't."

Victus' reply was surprisingly diplomatic. "No. And I won't try to pass it off as ancient history. I know what it's done to your people, krogan, but we don't have time to worry about what our ancestors did. The Reapers-"

"Will speed up my people's extinction a hundredfold if we send our warriors to your world," Wrex countered.

Shepard sighed, this very argument having played out in his mind a hundred times. "Wrex... I don't agree with what was done. You know my opinion of the genophage. But if we don't stop the Reapers, then the krogan will become extinct - along with all of our species."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to volunteer us to go first," the krogan said. "But if the turian is going to make deals, I can too."

The entire delegation blinked in surprise at the sudden change of tone. Victus spoke up first.

"Trying to draw out negotiations won't get you anywhere. I don't have the time or the patience. Just tell us what you want."

Wrex's laugh rumbled once more and he spread his arms wide.

"I want the one thing that will help us. I want a cure for the genophage."

The dalatress gasped. "Absolutely not! The genophage is not an item to be negotiated!"

There was an immediate flurry of further exclamations, denials, and confusion. He let it ramble on for a few long moments before slamming his hand on the table, bringing silence down on the room once more and looking directly at his old friend.

"The truth is, Wrex, if I know how to get that I'd already have offered it."

The krogan inclined his head. "I know you would, Shepard. You're a true battle brother."

"Or a naive fool. Either way it is irrelevant, there is no cure for the genophage and no salarian will be helping you look for one," the Dalatrass said. Linron was her name apparently, according to the update EDI had just sent to his omni tool. She had clearly aimed to place herself in a position of power by not introducing herself, or at least trying to put others at a disadvantage.

"Why are you so against this, Dalatrass?" Shepard asked.

She turned her attention to him, lips curled in a small sneer of contempt. "Because it was our people that uplifted the krogan and we know them best."

Wrex threw up his arms in frustration. "You uplifted us to fight a war you couldn't win! It was krogan blood that stopped the rachni! Not salarians, not turians. Krogan!"

"And then you ceased to be useful," the Dalatrass snapped. "The genophage was the only way to keep your base 'urges' in check! We uplifted them to wage war, it's the only thing the brutes know how to do."

"Wrex is right," Victus interjected, much to everyone's surprise, most of all his own. "His people won our war for us... and if we want them to help us win this one we have to give them a chance. Insulting him won't change that."

"Irrelevant. You cannot bargain for something that doesn't exist."

"Funny thing about that..." Wrex rumbled. "Because my sources say you have a fertile female at one of your STG facilities. And that sounds a lot like the start of a cure to me."

The Dalatrass' eyes widened, mouth moving slightly before she quickly regained her composure. It had been long enough, though, causing Shepard's brow to raise. That kind of reaction was either a very well-acted false tell or Wrex had just struck a very telling blow to salarian counter-espionage and intelligence.

"I do not know what you are talking about, krogan. We have none of your females," Linron replied crisply. "Your delusions have no place in this meeting."

"Delusions? I'm not an idiot, salarian, listening to rumors in the streets of Omega and taking them as the words of shamans. I have proof. Shepard can verify it."

"I can?"

The krogan reached to his belt and sent a datapad spinning across the desk and into his hands. Opening up the only file that appeared to be on the device and immediately linking it to the main display, a video of some sort of scientific facility began to play onscreen. Inside glass cells was were the blurry outlines of krogan. Wrex's voice was angry when he spoke.

"A salarian, Maelon Heplorn, grew a conscience. He was doing experiments on our females trying to find a cure."

"Barbaric ones," Shepard interrupted.

"I know. But what you didn't know is that some of the females survived. And the Dalatrass here sent in an STG team to clean it up. Those are my people. Our best hope for defeating the genophage."

"This... this is a fabrication!" Linron stammered.

"Shepard, activate the VI security."

He did so, the small glowing outline of a salarian head appearing at the bottom of the video.

"Identify," the VI demanded. He could swear it sounded familiar.

"Commander John Shepard, SSV _Normandy_."

"Detect slight lowering in harmonic range, indicates fatigue. Should attempt to get more sleep. Also, drink fluids. Identity confirmed. Verification of authenticity of supplied data needed?"

Shepard smirked. That was definitely a familiar voice. "Yes."

"Of course. Assuming you have figured out my identity. Need phrase not used with any others. Only in private. Hmm. Apologize for breaking doctor patient confidentiality; but continued survival of galaxy takes precedent. Commander Shepard, verification phrase: 'do not ingest'."

He blinked and did his best to keep the heat from rising to his face. Of all the phrases the doctor could have used, that was the one he chose? Amazingly bizarre and yet completely typically if he thought about it. The other delegates were looking at him expectantly.

"It's real. I'd stake my life on it," he confirmed, getting a smirk from Wrex.

"This is true, Dalatrass?" Victus demanded.

Clearly on the defensive now, the salarian looked between Hackett, Victus, and Wrex, shaking her head. "What does curing the genophage do to assist my people? Make us the target of krogan vengeance?"

"It gets you allies," Hackett said plainly. "How long do you plan on holding out against the Reapers without support? Because if you don't help us - that's how it will be."

"And I'll be the last friendly turian you ever see," Victus added, voice icy.

Shepard couldn't help but smile darkly. Javik would approve of that particular line of thinking... and he hadn't even had to call upon the prothean to shock the delegates into agreeing. From the slump of Linron's shoulders he could see that they had won. Already variables were probably running through her head, calculating the military strength of the salarian fleets and Reaper capabilities, coming to the same conclusions they all had.

Her voice was filled with resignation, head bowed, fingers rubbing her forehead. "The females are being kept at an STG base on Sur'Kesh."

"Ha!" Wrex said, slamming his fists on the table and looking to him. "Let's go get the females!"

"What?" the dalatrass' head snapped up. "You're not setting foot on Sur'Kesh. This will take-"

"This happens now," Victus stated firmly. "Shepard is a Council Spectre. He has all the authorization he needs to handle the exchange."

He was rapidly deciding that he liked this Primarch. The man reminded him of a slightly more rule-abiding Garrus. The hard edge was definitely there and there was no question that he acted decisively. If only there were a few thousand more like him to go around.

"It's settled then," Wrex said.

"EDI?" Shepard asked.

"I have already plotted a course for Sur'Kesh. As soon as the delegates have returned to their respective vessels we can depart."

"Excellent. I think that concludes this war council for now?" Hackett asked.

"Ah... one item..." Kun Raken interjected. He had almost forgotten the volus in all the back and forth.

"Yes, Ambassador?"

"The Protectorate... ah... has few military resources to offer to this alliance," he stated. "But we are not... ah... completely incapable. Clearly we must all... ah... stand together if we are to survive. We will place all... ah... fleets at the Hierarchy's disposal upon completion of the agreement with Krogan-clan."

Victus inclined his head at the small alien. "Thank you."

"We have... ah... one particular item I believe you will be interested in, Primarch. She is called the _Kwunu_."

"What?"

A flash of blue showed outside the the windows of the conference room as another ship dropped out of FTL nearby. The ship shared most of its design with the turian dagger like sense of aesthetics but appeared to be somewhat broader... more of a sword than a dagger. And it was massive, clearly a dreadnought class ship. EDI's hologram appeared above the table.

"New vessel detected. Her barriers are down to allow for a full scan. Confirmed, the vessel is the _Kwunu_ of the Vol Protectorate," she said, and he actually heard a note of surprise in her voice. "Commander, I am detecting approximately a ten percent increase in mass compared to current known specifications of Hierarchy dreadnoughts. In addition I am detecting a primary spinally-mounted Thanix cannon... and multiple Thanix cannons mounted in a broadside array. Each of these mounts are roughly equivalent to sixty percent power of the _Normandy_'s main guns."

"Courtesy... ah... of Rupe Elkoss and the Elkoss Combine," the volus said. "If the... ah Hierarchy is going to lead us... ah... to war, then a Primarch should have... ah... a flagship of appropriate stature."

The expression on Victus' face was one he'd learned well from Garrus. It was a predatory smile.

"I think we can agree on that, Ambassador."

* * *

><p>The Dalatrass had spoken of dire consequences and in veiled threats, but all in all it had gone better than he expected. Curing the genophage was no small matter but they weren't starting from scratch. Wrex's 'source' would be the one to figure it out if anyone could and if there were still fertile females alive from Maelon's experiments that could only help their chances. While he'd have preferred to have gotten all of the disparate forces to unite against the Reapers some was better than none.<p>

The volus' unequivocal support had come as something of a surprise to Shepard. They had always been jealous of the human race's induction to the Council and he'd expected more political maneuvering from some of the galaxy's most shrewd traders and businessmen. In an odd turn of events it appeared that the businessmen were the only ones logical enough to accept that there was no way to benefit from a war for survival. The only profit was their continued existence and to ensure it they had agreed to supply to the Hierarchy, and any allying forces, with all the manpower and material they could ask for. Getting the production capabilities of the Elkoss Combine behind them it was no small gesture, considering the aforementioned conglomerate had managed to single handled fund the construction of a dreadnought using some of the most advanced technology in Council space.

Now he stood in the war room with Wrex on one side, Garrus and Javik on the other. The delegates had already departed: Victus taking command of the _Kwunu_ and the others returning to their prospective fleets. He'd called the remainder of the team to meet there but while they waited there was a brief moment of quiet. Wrex's throaty laugh broke the silence.

"Never thought I'd see the day a turian was taking my side in an argument against a salarian," Wrex said. "I always thought I'd come to regret letting you destroy that base on Virmire... good to see I was wrong."

"I do not understand the logic behind this genophage," Javik interjected.

The krogan laughed again. "And you found a prothean alive and kicking. Only you, Shepard."

"The genophage was designed to keep the krogan's prodigious breeding rate in check," Garrus responded to the prothean. "Our leaders at the time decided that if they didn't use it then the krogans would just outbreed us and eventually overwhelm the galaxy."

Javik shook his head. "Foolish. If you had your enemy in a position to destroy them then you should have done so. It is the way of the galaxy. One should not prolong the extinction merely out of a misguided sense of mercy."

"We aren't extinct yet. And if I have a say in it we never will be," Wrex growled.

He decided it was time for a change of subject.

"That's why we're doing this. Garrus, what about Victus? Hopefully that new ship will help bolster morale and I saw him and Hackett speaking after the meeting. They looked pretty intense."

"Seems they're both old soldiers. Last time I saw them before they hit the airlock Victus was explaining how you could make a micro-FTL jump with dreadnoughts to put them inside the Sovereign-class Reapers' optimal firing arcs," the turian explained.

"Sovereign class?"

"We're turians; we have to have a classification for everything. The first Reaper we technically encountered was Sovereign, so..."

"Wonderful. At least we did blow that one to hell."

Javik nodded appreciatively. "In my time we managed to destroy a handful of the largest Reaper ships, but usually only through suicidal ramming attempts. Without the relay network our fleets were simply too spread out to ever face the enemy with a unified front."

"Huh. You guys controlled the entire galaxy, thought you would have done better," Wrex mused.

"We fought the Reapers for three hundred years without reprieve," the prothean responded coolly, his tone becoming mournful. "Unfortunately our greatest strength was also our downfall."

Shepard leaned back against the bank of consoles, arching an eyebrow at the ancient soldier.

"What do you mean? If there's a particular weakness we should avoid..."

"No, it is not a weapon or a ship. In my time there were many races, but they were all prothean. The empire spanned every star system and all followed our lead. When the Reapers attacked the Citadel and began pouring through they destroyed the seat of our government. They knew where every fleet, every world, was located. They knew how to fight us, and as we were one unified whole we could not adapt. Too long we had known ourselves to be the undisputed masters of our domain."

"Everyone runs the same playbook... and the Reapers had already read the whole thing," Garrus muttered.

The prothean nodded, apparently understanding the idiom. "Indeed. We had fought countless wars with the same tactics and technologies. When they did not work against our new enemy we had no other options to fall back on. Half of our empire fell in the first year. Only desperate measures and the Reapers' own deliberate pace allowed us to hold out for centuries longer."

On that grim note the war room doors opened, admitted the rest of the team. EDI had led the way in her new sleek, silver form, with a very wary looking Lieutenant Vega trailing behind. Much to his surprise Kasumi hadn't bothered to cloak herself and was instead chatting with Liara in an animated fashion. Maybe the thief had become more trusting. Or she'd simply been preoccupied.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen... and, uh, AIs?"

EDI cocked her head. "My personality matrix and this new physical body both conform to female patterns. I believe I would fall under the 'ladies' classification."

"Good enough for me," he said over Kasumi's snickers. "I assume by now you've been informed that we have set course for Sur'Kesh?"

Nodding heads confirmed his statement.

"Our mission is simple. We're going to extract a number of surviving krogan females from STG 'care'. Fertile females."

Liara looked more than a little surprised. "I had heard nothing about this..."

"Even the best intelligence network in the world isn't flawless. Especially with the STG are the ones hiding the information. The ultimate goal of this mission is not quite so simple, however," he continued. "Wrex?"

The krogan smiled, grin of all pointed teeth and wrinkled leathery skin. "We're going to cure the genophage. The thousand year punishment of my people is going to end."

"Whoa. I mean, is that like... even possible?" Vega asked.

"The source of the information would indicate to me yes. And we need the krogan if we're going to win this war. In space Reapers are outmatching us at every turn, but no war is won from space alone. And on the ground I think a battalion of krogan warriors will give them a fight like they've never seen," Shepard said.

"Oh we'll give them a fight," Wrex added, slamming his fists together.

He scanned the assembled faces. "EDI, I promised you that you'd come on the next ground mission with me but I don't think this will be much of a test. The salarians might not like the deal we made but I can't see the STG attack us. I'm going to bring Javik and Garrus with me on the ground just in case. Liara, I believe you were still working on the data that EDI had extracted from Cerberus'... her new body?"

The asari smiled wistfully. "Yes. There is a wealth of knowledge there. I had hoped that Javik would be able to assist me in decrypting it all, but I'll manage."

"As I stated before, asari, if you wish me to translate I am capable; but my knowledge of our technology is that of a soldier. I can repair a damaged component or understand how to use our weapons, but I did not design them nor the security that now protects them," Javik said.

Kasumi piped up. "I can help with that if you don't need me on the ground."

"Please do," he agreed. "I don't think taking you to an STG base is the best idea. If there's anywhere in the galaxy that someone might know you it would be there. The last thing I need is the salarians trying to use your presence as an excuse to hold things up."

"No worries. I'll play computer geek, Shep. It'll be a nice change of pace from my new life of being shot at. Some of us aren't nearly as fond of it as you are."

He could see Garrus' shoulders shaking in poorly concealed amusement.

"What about me, sir? Shouldn't I be on the ground with you?" Vega inquired, hands at his back in a parade rest.

"I'm afraid not. This ship is barely half crewed and I'm taking Garrus with me... that makes you the officer on deck while I'm planetside."

The lieutenant blinked. "Sir? I'm pretty sure I slept through naval tactics in OTS. I don't think I'm qualified to be in charge of a ship. Much less the _Normandy_."

Shepard saw how the man's muscles were drawn tight, flexing with nervous energy. While Vegas' gaze never wavered he could tell there was something more to his objection than just a simple soldier not wanting feeling qualified to take command. That wouldn't have flown in officer training and certainly not in the field, and he knew that Vega had commanded squads in the field before. Still, it wasn't a discussion for the current time or setting.

"You'll do fine, just keep her in one piece. EDI can handle anything mundane - but I need an officer on deck that can make a call if the need arises. Joker is a damn good pilot and a friend, but he hasn't been in the field. You have, so that puts you in charge while Garrus and I are on the ground."

After a moment's hesitation Vega answered. "Yes, sir."

The Spectre smiled. "Good, now let's go knock on the STG's door and ask if they have any spare krogan females."

Wrex's laughter was still echoing in the war room when he left.


	8. Chapter 7: Bonds

Chapter 7: Bonds

Shepard double-checked his gear one last time before glancing at the elevator doors impatiently. He looked at his omni-tool. It was a little earlier than he thought, his internal clock must have been off. The other three should arrive shortly; Wrex certainly wasn't going to show up late to what was likely the most important mission in his considerably long life. The Spectre walked over to where their new pilot was skimming what looked like manifests on a large terminal.

"Cortez?"

"Hm? Oh sorry, sir! I was just going over some data before the mission," the man said, turning and offering a salute that Shepard waved away. "I didn't see the rest of the team, should I have the shuttle prepped already?"

"No need for that. I got down here a little early, figured I'd take a few minutes to touch base. You've handled that shuttle pretty well those last few runs and I have a policy of at least expressing my gratitude to people that get my ass back home in one piece," Shepard said, flashing a brief smirk. "Why do you think I put up with Joker?"

The man chuckled, relaxing. "He is... very opinionated."

"You've got a gift for understatement, Cortez. What are you going over? I might hate paperwork but I'm pretty sure I recognize supply manifests when I see them. Not exactly something I expect pilots to be handling."

"I was never actually assigned as the Normandy's pilot. In fact I was actually here to oversee the modifications to the cargo bay and armory, but once the Reaper's hit... well I've got the flight experience, you needed a pilot, so I was it," Cortez explained with a shrug. "I'm also handling procurement since Traynor has her hands full coordinating all the information that comes through the Normandy's systems and well... EDI making outside calls for supplies might raise a few eyebrows. Especially if someone asked her to sign for something."

"Logical, I'll give you that."

"We don't have the manpower to be picky about our jobs. Technically I oversee the armory too but Lieutenant Vega has mostly been handling that for me. On the bright side since EDI gave me access to all of her available vendor information and a suspiciously large amount of credits I've been able to line up a pretty good resupply for us."

Shepard crossed his arms and leaned back against the console. "What sort of supplies?"

"A little bit of everything. I figured with the galaxy going to hell now was the time to stock up. Two crates of thermal magazines, rations, even a few heavy weapons. You had quite a collection here when the Normandy was turned over to the Alliance. Unfortunately the best I could do was a crate of four M-560 Hydra missile launchers and two surplus M-100 grenade launchers."

"Anything that involves acquiring explosive devices generally won't elicit any complaint from me. If you're already taking on the job make sure you acquire a considerable stockpile of dextro rations and medical supplies. Garrus is the only one on board right now but I either want to make sure that he can eat for a damn year or that we've got enough to feed a squad of turians if we pick them up somewhere."

The other man nodded. "Of course, Commander. EDI had actually already sent me a message regarding that as soon as... Mr. Vakarian came on board."

An amused, flanged voice came from behind Shepard. "Mr. Vakarian is my father, grouchy old bastard that he is. You can just call me Garrus."

Shepard glanced over his shoulder. "Nice of you to join us."

"Hey, I'm on time. I figured Wrex would be down here beating on the shuttle doors like a kid on his naming-day."

"I've been here," a voice rumbled from their left.

Emerging from behind the stacked crates Wrex lumbered into view, armored and ready as always. The massive krogan's leathery hide was the same patchwork of lines and scars that Shepard remembered, his brutish appearance belying the glitter of razor sharp intelligence in his eyes. Wrex had never specified his exact age, but it was measured in centuries. The krogan had been waging war in space when human beings had still been fighting each other with swords and spears. It made their friendship all the more odd. Wrex greeted them with a toothy smile.

"I always slept in the hold of the old Normandy, didn't see a reason to break with tradition."

"Only you could nap before a mission like this, Wrex," Garrus said, shaking his head.

"Get a few centuries on you turian, and you'll appreciate any chance to sleep you can get."

"Oh, I've been through boot camp. I had that drilled into me already, I just still don't think I'd be able to sleep knowing how close I was to curing the genophage."

Wrex eyed the turian carefully. "We've fought side by side, Vakarian. I'd trust you at my back any day, which is more than I can say for any other turian, but I'm surprised you're so enthused. Considering all those arguments we had in the old days."

The Spectre couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself. Argument was a mild way of putting the disagreements that Wrex and Garrus had had on the SR-1. More than once he had almost seen them come to blows during those first weeks of the mission, surly and snapping at one another with time honored insults and raised voices. More than once Ashley had abandoned the armory for the mess to get away from the shouting, while Liara and Tali had both seemed nervous just to be around them. Kaiden had often asked him why he didn't just keep them in separate parts of the ship, only take one of them at a time on missions to avoid the conflict. He'd just smiled back then and said they'd eventually learn that they weren't so different.

And they had. The pair that had been mortal enemies in the first weeks of their mission had become staunch allies by the final days. Garrus and Wrex had been his two tried and true soldiers, the ones he took with him when it wasn't going to be a mission about talking and negotiating. While every member of his team had been a fighter with their own skills and talents, the three of them working together had been nothing short of a force of nature. By all rights they should have hated one another to their graves.

"I learned that I was wrong about a lot of things back then, Wrex. The genophage was one of them. I've seen too much pain and suffering in this galaxy the last few years to think that inflicting more would help anyone."

"Guess that I learned a thing or two as well, turian," Wrex said dryly, clasping the sniper's wrist tightly and glancing over at Shepard. "You two made a good krannt. Good that you're here for this."

Shepard inclined his head at the old krogan. "I wouldn't miss it."

Cortez had already slipped away to prep the shuttle during their conversation, clearly seeing that the conversation was between old comrades. Behind them he could hear the shuttle's engines whining as they started up. A few moments later the last member of their ground party arrived. Javik wore his same ornate armor and he could see the particle weapon resting easily at the prothean's back. Wrex was already eyeing him curiously.

"I am ready, Commander," Javik said. "It will be intriguing to see how the salarians have developed in your cycle. In my time they had barely left the water."

"Who's this?" the krogan asked.

Shepard made a quick introduction. "Wrex, this is Javik. The last member of the Prothean Empire. Javik, this is Urdnot Wrex. A friend and warrior, leader of Clan Urdnot."

The two ancient warriors appraised each other for a few long moments before Wrex extended his hand. Javik, whether recognizing the gesture from Shepard's memories or some things simply being universal, returned the gesture briefly. He saw the prothean's lips curl slightly at the contact.

"You have fought many battles," Javik stated plainly, respectfully even. Surprising considering that most of Javik's commentary since coming aboard had been tinged with equal amounts disbelief and bemusement at the advances of the 'primitives'.

"Centuries worth. Prothean, huh? Thought you lot all died out the last time the Reapers attacked."

The prothean's reply was firm. "As Commander Shepard stated, I am the last. I carry with me the vengeance of my people."

"Hrm. I think we'll get along just fine. If there's anything a krogan understands, it's revenge. We ready?"

Shepard gestured towards the shuttle with one hand, grabbing his helmet from the nearby console. "Looks like it. Load up and let's go get your women, Wrex."

* * *

><p>Sur'Kesh looked how Shepard imagined Earth might have millions of years ago, with large land masses covered in thick jungles. The shuttle skimmed above the thick canopy before descending into a breathtaking valley near the STG facilities. Salarian buildings were all smooth faced with curves that wrapped around the natural form of the landscape they were built on, merging with rather than trampling over, the terrain. There was a time in the past he might have appreciated the huge waterfalls that poured from various cliff faces, the lush beauty of it all. Now all he could see was what parts of Earth looked like before the Reaper's devastating assault. He wondered if the Amazon jungle that so many governments and environmental groups had spent billions preserving were alight with flames.<p>

"Thanks for this, Shepard. No one else I'd rather have at my side," Wrex said as they neared the base.

Garrus coughed, earning himself a disinterested glare from Wrex that quickly dissolved into a good natured smirk. Even if a grin on Wrex looked more akin to a crocodile appraising its next meal.

"I suppose I can make room for you too, Garrus."

"Much better," the turian quipped. "I just came along because I figured you'd gone soft, forgotten how to hold a gun sitting on that nice throne."

Wrex made a rude gesture and turned his attention back to Shepard. "So what's the plan? They're just going to let us land this thing and load up the females? Seems too easy."

"It does," he replied dryly. "Keep your eyes open."

As if summoning trouble the comms came to life before he'd even finished his sentence. A terse salarian voice immediately started rattling orders, leading Shepard to the cockpit. Nothing could be as simple as just landing and picking up a few passengers.

"Shuttle, this is ground control. You are not authorized to land at this secure facility."

"STG base, this is Spectre John Shepard. I have authorization from Dalatrass Linron for this pick up," Shepard said, stressing both his rank and the dalatrass' name. Cortez had banked the shuttle and was now hovering over the facility, looking over his shoulder in confusion.

The response was immediate. "Repeat, you are not authorized to land at this facility!"

A deep, rolling growl came from behind him.

"To hell with this. I knew they'd never keep their word. Let's see them try to stop a krogan airdrop!"

"Wrex!" he yelled.

Shepard was far too late, of course. The shuttle door was already open and the krogan leapt out, a quarter of a ton of bone, muscle, and armor dropping two stories to the ground. Wrex's body was momentarily wreathed in biotic energy, slowing his descent only slightly. The thud of his massive bulk landing was loud enough to echo even over the sound of the shuttle's engines.

"Dammit! Bring it down, Cortez... hopefully before Wrex starts a damn war!"

Javik caught his eye even through the visor of his helmet. "And what if he does? Will you let him die or will you fight these amphibians for his females?"

"I promised Wrex we'd get his people back. I keep my promises."

Following the krogan's example he jumped from the shuttle before Cortez could even bring it to the ground, tucking himself into a roll as he landed and using the momentum to push himself back to his feet. Wrex already had his shotgun out and a snarl on his face, half a dozen wide eyed salarians advancing clutching SMGs and pistols. The nearest raised his weapon only to go flying backwards from a surge of biotic energy.

"Come on, you slimy little cowards!" Wrex snarled.

The red glint of laser sights didn't go unnoticed, swarming over the battlemaster and Shepard's own armor. On pure muscle memory his hand found the rifle at his back, unfolding the weapon in his hands and tucking it his shoulder. Garrus' voice was in his ear.

"Got you covered, boss, but there are a lot of them."

"Stand down! Stand down!" a panicked voice yelled, quickly materializing as a dark skinned salarian male. His aural horns were oddly mismatched, far from the usual symmetry he saw on most salarians. "Commander Shepard! We were only just informed of this transfer. Please restrain your colleague!"

"Not much of a welcome... where are the females?" Wrex demanded.

"I will explain. No need for violence," the salarian insisted, quickly motioning at his own men. With clear reluctance barrels eased downward and targeting lasers winked out.

"Wrex," he said simply.

"Alright, alright."

When the battlemaster's weapon was safely at his back once more Shepard released a tightly held breath, flicking the safety on his weapon and motioning for the other two to join them. Garrus and Javik made the short jump to the ground from their previous positions inside the shuttle doors. He was amused to note both of them scanning their surroundings. Eyes picking out sniping positions, cover, entrances and exits. Apparently fifty thousand years of separation didn't greatly change the behavior of soldiers.

"Apologies for the misunderstanding. Padok Wiks, STG," the dark salarian said, offering his hand in a surprisingly non-salarian handshake. "We only opened and decrypted the orders a few minutes ago. Response time to the control tower was somewhat lacking."

He took the offered hand, giving the man a questioning look. "We've been in transit for hours. I met with the Dalatrass herself. How are you just now getting these orders?"

"Question of the hour, no?" Wiks said. "Please, follow me. I apologize for the welcome. With the war our people are on edge and this base contains sensitive information... as you can see. Wait here, I will get you access to the lower levels."

Moving into the base proper he was greeted by a sight that almost had him reaching for his rifle once more. Moving slowly across the ceiling in a transparent cell was a massive creature, bulking twice the size of even Wrex and with eight eyes all glittering with deadly intelligence. A yahg, all teeth, claws and rage. Memory roared in the back of his mind. The Shadow Broker throwing his grenade, the heat and force of the explosion washing over him**. **Tali's slim form lifted from the ground and tossed against the wall like a doll, a barely heard cry of pain, Liara's barely registering. And then the pure rage as he'd lashed out with his biotics. That feeling of brutal, hateful satisfaction when he had torn out the yahg's throat. Not even realizing it a deep snarl had left his lips, causing his companion's eyes to snap to him.

"I thought I was the pissed off one here, Shepard," Wrex said, red eyes examining him closely. For all reputation of the krogan as uncultured, uneducated brutes there had always been a keen mind behind Wrex's scarred, belligerent exterior.

"We had an encounter with a yahg a little while back," Garrus supplied. "It wasn't fun."

Shepard shook his head, getting control of himself. "Sorry, just bad memories. Can't believe they have those things here."

"You fought one. Hand to hand?" Javik interjected. The prothean's gaze was curious before turning knowing, the question becoming a statement. It seemed that his mental abilities didn't require touch. "Impressive."

"Yea, impressive," he muttered.

Wrex didn't press the line of questioning any further, just shrugging and moving to follow as he approached the STG agent.

"What kind of facility is this, Wiks?" he demanded. "Yahg? I'd ask if you know what those things are capable of but if you've studied them then you already know."

The salarian frowned. "Evolutionary trials. Morphological simulation. Exogenetic assessments."

"I knew another salarian that talked that language, didn't understand him half the time either but I think I picked up enough to translate. You're keeping them as damn science experiments. Looking for the next species to 'uplift'!"

"I cannot comment on STG projects, Commander. But I will say that there are some that would repeat mistakes of the past rather than admit a decision was made in error," Wiks replied. "Now I have gained access for you to the lower levels but we must insist that the krogan remain here under guard. My superiors simply will not authorize his entry into sensitive areas."

"I'll find your sensitive areas in a minute, salarian," Wrex growled.

He held up a hand. "Let me do my job, Wrex. I can go in and make nice. You stand out here and find out if it's actually possible to make someone burst into flames by glaring at them."

"We will endeavor to make the transition as smooth as possible. Ah... one moment, I am getting some information. I will provide you with security passes momentarily," Wiks assured them, turning to talk in hushed tones with a salarian behind him. The words were fast, somehow managing to be high pitched and guttural at the same time; clearly it was the salarian native tongue.

Shepard looked over at the battlemaster as they waited impatiently. "What do you know about these females, Wrex? When we cleaned out Maelon's lab there weren't any survivors, where did they even come from?"

The krogan snorted. "They were infertile as far as we knew; they were sent out as a distraction to divert attention away from the actual fertile females at the camp so Urdnot could move in and evacuate after you decapitated Clan Weyrloc. Guess Maelon's experiments had changed them, we never heard from them again. Assumed they were dead."

"That's a brutal decision to make. Sending out women to die... turians are all about equal roles in our military but something about that idea still sticks in my craw," Garrus muttered.

Javik's response was far more ambivalent. "It is a valid strategy. This genophage makes their fertile females their most valuable asset. If an asset of far lesser value is lost in protecting them it is a good decision."

"And the females volunteered for it in the first place," Wrex added. "Those are the kind of decisions the genophage has forced us into."

The discussion was cut short when alarms began to blare. Padok Wiks had already spun on his heel, omni-tool open, typing away even as he spoke.

"Should have trusted my instincts before! Damn! We have inbound unidentified ships, half a dozen shuttles and gunships. Our listening posts had detected a few unknowns at the edge of our sensor range but nothing conclusive. You need to get below. We're already mobilizing defenses."

"Reapers?"

"Unknown, but I don't believe so. Drive emissions and silhouettes suggest conventional designs such as A-61 Mantis gunships."

"Whoever they are I can't assume it's a coincidence. Wrex, same plan but faster. Stay here and guard the shuttle. We're screwed if we can't get out of here."

The krogan nodded, producing his weapon once more. "I will, but you better get your ass in there and get our women! Come on you slippery runts. You can see how a krogan fights when you're not on the receiving end!"

The salarian guards jumped as Wrex addressed them, but followed as he stalked towards the shuttle. Garrus and Javik were already in the elevator, the turian tossing him a triangular yellow badge that he held in front of the scanner. The computer beeped once and the doors shut. A second later he felt movement as they moved deeper into the facility. The elevator finally slid to a halt, opening up to reveal salarians scrambling back and forth, emotionless VI echoing warnings throughout the base.

"Stage three incursion. All STG personnel are required to remain on site and secure any ongoing experiments. Repeat. Stage three incursion."

"I don't like this, Shepard," Garrus said. "This was all done through STG channels, direct from the dalatrass. We made a straight burn to the relay and then to Sur'Kesh."

The floor shuddered beneath their feet. An all too familiar sensation that all three recognized that only resulted when a powerful explosive was set off nearby. Any questions of whether it was an attack had clearly been answered. The salarians scrambled even faster, a dozen voices chattering too fast for any other race to keep track of. Shepard scanned the room, immediately spotting a friendly face in the same moment Mordin saw him.

"Shepard! Excellent timing. Good to have you here."

Crossing the distance between them he shook the older operative's hand quickly, his tone amused. "Mordin, good to see you too. This was the last place I expected to find you."

"Eyesight still sharp. Hadn't planned on returning to work. Hope pass phrase was useful for identifying veracity of information."

Thankfully Javik prevented a continuation on that topic. "Your speech is... strange, salarian. To think your kind once ate flies."

Mordin's gaze turned to Javik and there was a brief moment of silence from the salarian doctor, made all the more significant for its rarity. He blinked once.

"A prothean. Most excellent. Also, still eat flies. Delicious. Come, female this way."

He couldn't help but chuckle. Mordin had once explained to him that salarians processed emotions and surprise differently than humans, quickly categorizing and moving past the various stages. Still, only Mordin would simply accept that there was a living prothean and take it in stride with only a simple comment.

"So you're back with the STG?" Garrus asked.

Mordin nodded. "Yes. Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong. Fed Clan Urdnot information on females. Applied political pressure for release."

"Wrex is going to be surprised as hell when he figures out who his inside source is."

"Indeed. I predict very enjoyable surprise reactions. Can debate later, however," the salarian agreed. "Warnings not normal, clearly under attack. Must get female off world for her safety. Traitor in STG command structure one of only few possibilities. All bad."

Garrus gave the doctor a sidelong glance. "We were just thinking the same thing... wait, you said female, singular? The information implied there were a number of survivors."

"Females had... weakened immune systems. Side effect of Maelon's 'cure'. Most... did not survive."

He could hear the regret in Mordin's voice, the guilt. There were a few more casualties in the long list of pain caused by the genophage. Shepard sighed, resting a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"I'm sure you did everything you could for them."

"Arrived too late. Must not delay now," Mordin stated firmly. "One female survived, shows excellent resistance to genophage. Call her 'Eve'. Thought it appropriate. She does not understand the significance, however."

"You can create a cure for this genophage? From a single female?" Javik asked.

"Yes. Can synthesize counter agent from her tissue. She is last hope for krogan people. If she dies cure becomes... problematic."

Mordin was quickly leading them through the facility, past the scrambling guards and techs, finally arriving at another room that contained a holding cell similar to the one that he'd just seen containing the yahg. The doctor looked at him, warning in his dark, almond-shaped eyes.

"Please, be careful. Krogan slow to trust. Too much history."

"I'm Commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy. Can you hear me?"

Stepping forward he placed a hand on the glass. Time wasn't a luxury they had, whoever was attacking the STG could only be there for the same reason they were. But it would all be for nothing if the female wouldn't trust them enough to escape with them. Inside the cell all he could make out was a bulky form, swathed in robes. Abruptly the head raised and he met bright red eyes behind the slits of a veil. Eyes that shone with that same intelligence that Wrex's betrayed... and also more. Fear. Suspicion.

"Are you here to kill me, human?"

He blinked. The first thought, first assumption on meeting, was that he had come as her executioner? Behind him he could hear Garrus muttering a curse, something clipped and turian that he had only caught the sniper saying a few times before. It was decided unpleasant when he'd looked up the translation.

"No. I'm here to bring you home. To Tuchanka."

"Why? What am I to you? I see a turian and...something else. What prize has been offered, human, to bring you into the salarian nest for me?"

"You're the future of the krogan race. And maybe our only hope to win a war for every species," he said. "I came with Urdnot Wrex. Promised him we'd help save your people."

Another shudder passed through the floor, stronger than the last. The calm warning from before had become more strident, alarms blaring repeatedly. Above them he heard the first sounds of weapons fire dimly through the stonework.

"Then I hope you brought an army, Commander Shepard of the Normandy."

He turned to the nearest salarian, typing away at the nearby console. "What's the status?"

"Unknown ships have breached perimeter. The base is in lockdown and we're scrambling security."

"Shepard!"

He looked down, turning his back to the cell and activating his omni-tool. Wrex's face sprang up, twisted in a grimace. Over the comm he could hear echoes of gunfire and see flashes over the battlemaster's head.

"What's going on up there, Wrex?"

"It's Cerberus, they're attacking the facility. You need to get the females out of there now!"

He winced, glancing over his shoulder. "There's only one survivor left, Wrex. The others didn't make it, Maelon's treatments left them too weak."

"One?" the krogan practically roared. "Then Cerberus or not if you want this alliance we have to get her out of there. Now! I won't leave her there for the salarians to kill too!"

"I told you we'd get your people. That's exactly what I'll do. Secure the LZ," he ordered, feeling for the moment like time had run backwards and it was the original Normandy all over again. He turned to the salarian tech.

"Release the female. She's coming with us."

"I can't! Protocol states that during lockdown all specimens-"

The salarian's burst of regulations was cut off by a burst of electricity that caused his eyes to roll up in his head, sending him crumpling to the ground. Mordin simply lowered his omni-tool and looked down at the unconscious man sadly.

"Objection noted. But not 'specimen'. A person. When we forget that... science used for terrible purpose."

It only took a few keystrokes to override the lockdown procedures from what Shepard could see. The containment cell opened with an audible hiss, sliding slowly until the doors had fully retracted. The female's head turned slowly, as if expecting a trick, before taking a tentative step forward.

"Cannot wait, Eve. Must go. Assure you, Shepard trustworthy. Will not betray you. Considered part of krannt of Urdnot Wrex, first human to ever gain such an honor."

She eyed him suspiciously once more but finally nodded. "Very well."

"Where to, Mordin?"

"This way. Previous entrance already compromised. Schematics show Cerberus destroyed main elevator with explosive device. Must hurry."

"You up for this, old man?" Garrus asked with a smirk.

The salarian blinked at him once, then smiled faintly, drawing a pistol from his back and flicking off the safety. "Quote human song, genre 'country'. 'Not as good as once was. But as good once as ever was.' Slight paraphrasing."

"Good enough for me," the turian laughed.

"Alright, Javik you're with me on point. We're not taking prisoners or providing assistance, anything between us and that evac point is fair game. Garrus, hang back with Mordin and cover us. Make sure Eve stays safe and gets to that shuttle," Shepard ordered. "Clear? Then let's move."

He yanked the rifle from his back, the weapon extending in his hands like an old friend. A Viper mark 97, almost more of a marksman rifle than a true sniper rifle. It might not have the power to drop a charging krogan in one hit but it made him more mobile while still maintaining deadly accuracy. Bracing his back against the frame of the first door he looked over at Javik doing the same opposite of him, particle rifle gripped tightly in his hands. He nodded once and the prothean hit the door control with his fist.

The doors opened instantly and a rush of humid air poured in, immediately followed by the sounds of combat. The way forward was lined with large planters of what he could only assume was a native flower. Prothean and human moved one after the other, weapons raised. Half a dozen Cerberus troopers were taking up positions at the end of the open walkway, dropped there by a Kodiak shuttle. Mordin was ushering Eve behind a heavy concrete pillar for protection and gave him a curt nod as soon as she was safe. Shepard dropped into a crouch and lined up a shot.

"Take them."

Three guns fired almost simultaneously. Garrus heavy rifle took the nearest full in the chest, the impact sending the soldier tumbling over the edge of the balcony, while his own shot pierced through the visor of another. Both men were likely dead before they hit the ground. Javik's pulsing blast was far more dramatic tearing into the white armor just long enough for the trooper to scream before slicing through.

"Contacts!" one of the soldiers yelled, spraying fire in their direction, while the other two dove for cover much to their credit.

"I've got them covered, move up, boss!" Garrus said.

He made a dash for the nearest pillar, the turian's rifle giving another loud report as he did. A few more brilliant green lances streaked out for good measure, carving the top off of the Cerberus trooper's cover. Ducking around his cover he snapped off two quick shots that caught one of them in the shoulder, staggering him long enough for Javik to have a clear shot. Their armor was heavy, but without any real kinetic barriers the skirmish was a foregone conclusion. A few moments later the remaining two were sprawled on the floor in pools of blood.

"Clear. Mordin, you can move up with Eve. Keep her near the wall and watch for shuttles."

"Understood. Suspect mole in STG, Cerberus should not have known about females. Possible indoctrination."

"Yea, that's what I was afraid of," he muttered, jamming a fresh clip into the rifle just as his comm's crackled to life once more.

"Come in, Shepard."

"What is it, Wrex? We're moving as fast as we can."

"I took your shuttle. LZ was too damn hot with all these guys on the ground, I'm swinging around to pick you up. Sending the coordinates, I should be able to pick you up there. Don't keep me waiting, I can't fly around out here forever."

"Understood," he said. Now wasn't the time to ask why Wrex was piloting his shuttle instead of Cortez. Arguing with Wrex had rarely been a productive pastime in the first place and with Eve on the line it was even less advisable.

A shuttle, white and gold for Cerberus, blew past. Garrus immediately shifted position, putting himself between Eve and the open area but the shuttle apparently had more important things to worry about as two curving salarian fighters streaked after it. For the life of him he couldn't understand why Cerberus would attack now. How many times had the Illusive Man given his speech about wanted to advance humanity, not destroy aliens. To think he'd almost believed it.

"Commander!"

He dropped the rifle's barrel towards the ground as a salarian form materialized ahead from the blurring effect of a stealth rig. It wasn't quite up to Kasumi's standards but it was close. Much to his surprise he recognized the man by his rough, vivid green skin tone.

"Captain Kirrahe? What the hell are you doing here?"

"My job. And it's Major now actually," the salarian said ruefully. "You've got a heavy patrol of Cerberus ahead of you, I counted at least a dozen foot soldiers and three officers, assuming from their heavier armor."

"Problematic, cannot allow Eve to be put in harms way," Mordin interjected.

"Ah. Solus."

Mordin nodded. "Major."

Shepard glanced back to see Garrus covering the krogan female once more. "I can leave Garrus back here with you to cover our six, Mordin. Assuming you're willing to lend us a hand again, Kirrahe?"

"Just hope it turns out better than the last time," the major agreed.

He sighed. "Makes two of us."

"I find your variety of comrades fascinating, Commander. In my time we would have looked upon this variety of races as subordinates but you treat them as equals," Javik interjected.

Kirrahe had fixed the prothean with a very long stare, blinking a few times before flicking his eyes up and down.

"What... turian, significant genetic modification?"

"Prothean," Javik stated dryly.

"Unlikely. Couldn't be salarian. Drell? Or even batarian... multiple eyes?"

"Prothean."

"I might not be Mordin Solus, famed scientist, but I am still salarian enough to know when someone is making things up."

Mordin raised a finger. "Actually is prothean. Very fascinating. Will want to question extensively later but ignoring curiosity due to immediate concerns. Stop being cloaca."

"I am not a..." Kirrahe began, finally trailing off with the nearest thing to a growl he had ever heard from a salarian. "After all these years I see why Padok Wiks punched you. Humans have always tried to explain envy to me. I suddenly understand."

"Learning experience. Now, mission to complete?"

"I'm not even going to ask," Shepard said. "Garrus, you got the back door covered?"

"Don't worry, I'm not letting our krogan princess so much as scratch a nail."

The veiled female shook her head, voice bemused. "You are the krannt of Urdnot Wrex? That old male has become stranger in his years."

Garrus' mandibles flexed as he stifled a laugh, while Shepard could only shrug, stowing his rifle at his back once more and drawing the submachine gun from his hip. He looked between the odd team he had assembled: a turian guarding the last hope of a species that should have been his mortal enemy, two salarians that each thought the other was an idiot, and the last member of a millennia-dead species. What a strange path his life had taken.

"Javik, how are your hand to hand skills?"

"I am a master of the art of kree-ja as well as seven other forms of armed and unarmed combat."

"No idea what kree-ja is but I'm going to take that as a yes. We can't afford any of these guys getting line of sight on Eve. Javik and I are going to go in close, make sure they're too tied up to have a chance to concentrate fire. Mordin I need you harrying their flanks, keep them tangled up with us. Kirrahe, can you use that stealth net to get around them and provide a distraction so Javik and I can close on them?"

The green skinned salarian nodded, hefting the rifle in his hands. "A couple of concussive grenades and a thermal magazine worth of incendiary rounds should draw their attention."

"Sounds like a plan, then."

Kirrahe's form shimmered once more, disappearing from sight, and he could just hear the footfalls moving away. He moved up slowly with Javik, staying pressed against the wall to avoid being seen. Garrus' voice was loud in his ear in the sudden silence.

"Sounds like a plan, Shepard? Two of you stuck in with a dozen guys?"

"We're both biotics and from what I can tell Cerberus still isn't exactly recruiting former N7. They've got firepower and basic tactics but I haven't seen anything elite about them yet," he whispered into his helmet. "Just make sure Eve gets to that shuttle, you understand me?"

"I copy." The reply was grudging but at least it counted as assent.

A few more brief moments of waiting. Then he heard the first blast, quickly followed by another. Cerberus' soldiers yelled in surprise, immediately opening fire in uneven bursts. He surged from cover, Javik hot on his heels, slamming his shoulder into the back of the first soldier before the knot of Cerberus troops even noticed they were there.

"Shit! Contacts behind!" one of them barked.

It was then that he noticed what Kirrahe had meant about some of them being more heavily armored, throwing himself to the side as one of the soldiers spun on his heel and let off a burst of fire that tore through the space Shepard had occupied a moment before. Javik was already moving among them, catching one with the butt of his rifle before dropping low to sweep the legs out from another. Rolling to his feet Shepard jerked the trigger on his SMG, pouring a steady stream of fire into the chest of one of the soldiers.

His barriers flashed, rounds catching him in the shoulder. A wave of biotic energy from Javik staggered the trooper, sending the rest of his shots wide, and Shepard immeditately followed up with a vicious shove from his own biotics. The impact lifted the man from his feet and sent him hurtling over the edge of the balcony to what was likely a painfully abrupt stop below.

"Ignore the salarian!" one of the more heavily armored soldiers ordered. "Target Shepard!"

A final burst from his submachine gun raked across the leader, only to reveal the bright flash of kinetic barriers even as the thermal clip ejected from his weapon. Shepard cursed loudly and simply hurled the gun as hard as he could directly at the man's head, metal impacting metal with a loud crack. The blow wasn't remotely incapacitating but it was enough to stun the soldier long enough for Shepard to close the distance. He slapped the heavy rifle to the side and drove one gauntleted fist into the side of his opponent's head.

"Centurion!" one of the troopers yelled, leveling his weapon at Shepard.

Shepard reacted quickly, grabbing the armored collar of the stunned enemy and throwing him between himself and the other man, letting his enemy absorb the fire meant for him. To his left he watched Javik dodge a heavy blow from another trooper, flowing like water beneath the punch and sidestepping until he was behind his surprised opponent. In a flash his hands reached out, grabbing the man by the chin and snapping his neck in a single practiced jerk.

He didn't have time to appreciate the skill of the prothean's work, the 'centurion' that he'd been dealing with had already regained his senses. A length of electrified metal suddenly extended from the soldier's armor, swinging overhanded at his head. He barely caught it on his forearm, staggering back from the electric discharge. Hand to hand combat was one thing but the Spectre wasn't used to dealing with someone wearing armor even heavier than his own. As hard as he could hit it still wasn't enough to significant damage to someone wear such heavy plating.

Thankfully Mordin had apparently been paying attention to the situation if the sudden burst of flame that roared over the centurion's armor was any indication, eliciting a strangled yell of panic. The brief moment the soldier spent patting out the flames was enough for Shepard to draw his pistol and empty half the magazine into the man from only a few feet away. A few more shots rang out, white and gold armored forms slumped to the floor... and then it was over. The centurion he shot was twitching feebly, the wet gurgle that came from behind the helmet telling him the man wasn't long for the world.

"Bracing, but not a tactic I would advise utilizing often," Javik said, stepping over one of the bodies.

Shepard shrugged, rubbing his arm and trying to shake off the tingling and numbness. "We'll do whatever it takes. I'm going to need to find something that can punch through that damn armor before I try taking one of these types on in hand to hand again."

Crouching down he yanked off the Cerberus agent's face plate. Blank eyes, riddled with cybnetics just like on Mars, looked back at him. One more soldier sent to die for the cause. At least most terrorists had idealogy to drive them. But with all those silvery lines and faintly glowing implants he couldn't help but think that it wouldn't have mattered what this man had once believed. He belonged to Cerberus down to his bones now.

"Why? Why care about the krogan? Why throw away human lives for nothing?"

The centurion's only response was a wet cough, blood running down his lips. There were a few more sputters and then the eyes dimmed, the body going slack and slumping against the wall. No answers, only more questions.

"Even if we caught one alive I doubt they'd tell us anything, Shepard," Garrus said from behind him.

"Maybe so. The Illusive man is going to have a lot to answer for when this is all over. Let's get Eve to that shuttle."

* * *

><p>Garrus leaned back against the wall of the shuttle and sighed, just relaxing his muscles one by one. As missions went it hadn't exactly been normal, but he had learned the hard way that if you were on the Normandy then normal was just a distant memory. Three years ago if anyone had told him he'd be fighting side by side with a human and a salarian, he'd have said that it was damned unlikely. If they'd mentioned a prothean he'd have laughed at them. And if they'd said that he'd be doing all that while putting his life on the line to help cure the genophage?<p>

Probably would have punched them.

Now they were burning back to the Normandy as fast as the shuttle would go, Cortez at the controls once more. When Shepard had asked him how Wrex had ended up flying his answer had been simple: when the krogan battlemaster tells you to move, you do. A quiet chuckle rose in his throat at the thought as he removed his helmet, resting it on his knee. He noticed the krogan female, sitting gingerly on undersized bench of the passenger area, watching him intently.

"What? Didn't think I was actually a turian under there?" he asked dryly.

"No."

"No you didn't think I was turian or no you did?"

The krogan gave an unamused sigh. "I knew what you were turian. I was simply confused."

He glanced towards the back of the shuttle. Shepard was talking to Wrex, eyes not focused on anything in particular from what he could tell. The battlemaster was chuckling, giving the smaller human a clap on the shoulder and getting a tired smile from the Spectre that disappeared the next instant. Garrus shook his head, turning his attention back to the krogan, Eve, as Mordin called her.

"I'll bite. Why were you confused?"

"When the shuttle, the one belonging to the enemy human clan..."

"Cerberus"

"Yes. Their shuttle passed by, you put yourself between myself and the enemy. Why?

Garrus blinked, his plates crinkling slightly in confusion of his own. "Because you might be a krogan but Mordin said your system was under stress, I have barriers and armor... not to mention extensive experience at being shot with heavy ordnance."

"Your people were the ones that decided to deploy the genophage against mine a thousand years ago. Yet now you would protect me. Most turians would have been happy to kill me, I think."

"I'm not most turians," he shot back curtly.

"Indeed. You take orders from a human. Also odd."

"I don't take orders from 'a human'. I take orders from Commander Shepard, Spectre, Hero of the Citadel, and all that other stuff that looks good on the vids. Doesn't matter if he's human, turian, or anything in between."

Eve cocked her head.

"I do not understand. All my life I lived on Tuchanka until the salarians took me to their world. Every mercenary that came home told the same story. Humans hate turians. Turians hate krogan. Salarians lie to everyone. Yet this salarian Mordin... is different. He treats me well, is concerned for my health. Then a human and a turian arrive together with one of the oldest remaining krogan battlemasters, risking your lives for my own. What makes you each so different that you would work together?"

Garrus looked back at Wrex and Shepard again. The old krogan had a grumpy look on his face, shoving the Spectre lightly as he spoke in low tones. There was a brief exchange before Shepard actually laughed. It was short and tired, but it was something. Just like old times.

"I think we finally figured out that after the shit we've been through that people don't have to be the same species to be brothers."

The krogan had no response to that.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry for the delay, folks. Unfortunately illness is not conductive to good writing speed! We're nearing the end of the stretch where Requiem's events match up easily with the game... once Shepard leaves Tuchanka, well it'll be interesting at least.<em>


	9. Chapter 8: Doubts

Chapter 8: Doubts

_'The war makes it hard to get information. If you could please just...'_

_'You're human, you understand how it is out here. The others don't. If you...'_

_'I realize you're a man of importance...'_

_'We need this target neutralized to help secure the rest of the sector. No one else...'_

_'I'll pay you. Anything you want! Just get us out of here. It's only been a week and they're already...'_

_'I thought that was what Spectres did! You have to help us...'_

Shepard's grip tightened on the datapad, the polymer frame creaking in protest. With exacting control he eased his fingers' hold, setting the offending piece of technology down and dropping his head into his hands. As soon as they had dropped out of stealth and information began updating, the messages had arrived. It had only taken days, a scant week since Earth had fallen to the Reapers, before his name was on people's lips again. The disgraced Spectre vindicated. War criminal redeemed. But already he could hear the undertones in every message.

Why didn't you make us listen?

He picked up the datapad again, taking slow breaths and skimming through the next set of data and the newest rumors and examinations of past events. Articles on the Bahak incident were still a hot topic on the extranet, even six months later. One article managed to accuse him of wasting a tactical resource by not waiting to destroy the relay until after the Reapers had begun to come through, while another by Westerlund News speculated that if he hadn't destroyed the relay the Reapers would have spent valuable time attacking Aratoht instead of heading straight to Earth. The three hundred thousand lives that he'd snuffed out in an instant by destroying the relay had already become a footnote in history; a talking point. The datapad went flying across the room to slam into the wall with an audible crack.

"Even in the face of annihilation we're still bickering," Shepard muttered to the empty room.

Dragging himself to his feet and picked up the now inert datapad, he could only give a weary sigh, tossing it back onto his desk. A hundred letters, messages... pleas for help. He could easily delete the offers from wealthy businessmen and industrialists, offering money, power, any part of their little empires for some favor or another. The hard, cynical part of his mind said that they'd brought this all on themselves, waited too long trying to take advantage of the situation. But for every one of those messages that had scrolled across, there had been another from frightened aid workers that had seen his name on the vids, old acquaintances and people he'd met in his quest to stop Saren... all asking for help. Anything to escape the coming darkness.

And when he powered down his terminal, leaving the messages unanswered, he knew that someone else would die waiting to be saved, a hundred light years away. Someone waiting on that bright moment when the person they'd seen as larger than life strode through fire and flames to snatch them from the grip of death, hope dying in their eyes when no one came - because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't be everywhere at once.

Leaning against the doorway of his cabin, he choked back the sound of despair that threatened to climb out of his chest, instead clenching his jaw and leveling his breathing once more. There was work to be done. A war to win. Maybe when it was over he'd finally be able to rest once and for all.

When he stepped into the elevator his face was passive once more. He was himself again. What he had to be. Commander John Shepard, Spectre. Hero of the Citadel. All the other titles the vids and the reports gave him. The galaxy wanted a hero that was larger than life to save them from the monsters. He would have to do.

* * *

><p>"Ah, Shepard. Good. Eve wished to speak with you. Am working on genophage data now," Mordin said as the commander entered the medbay. "Doctor Chakwas very accommodating. Will be able to work on synthesizing actual cure once we arrive on Citadel. Understood Alliance refit of Normandy but regret removal of lab."<p>

"Thanks, Mordin. I've already sent word ahead; they're going to have a full lab set up for you by the time we dock. You'll have anything you need."

"Very good. Will continue tests."

The female krogan was sitting on one of the medical beds, arms around her knees in a feminine pose that looked natural but very atypical for a krogan at the same time. Wrex was on one side of the bed, speaking with her quietly. Quietly for Wrex, at least, which was loud enough to be heard through the entire med bay.

"Are you alright? What about this Mordin? How is he treating you?"

"Better than krogan males do," Eve replied drolly. "He's not like a typical salarian."

"Sneaky, smart... knows how to make viruses and genetic plagues. Sounds like a typical salarian to me."

For his part Mordin seemed to be blissfully unaware of anyone else in the room after the initial greeting to Shepard, solely focused on the screen in front of him. Images of cells and DNA strands blinked by rapidly on the console while the salarian sang a strange little tune under his breath.

"Asari-vorcha offspring have an allergy to dairy and... da da da duh da..."

Watching Mordin, Eve shook her head at Wrex's grumbling. "I sense a sadness in him. Seeing my sisters and I... saw it in his eyes. Something changed."

"We'll see," Wrex grunted. "I'll be back later to give the salarian his damn tissue sample. Garrus wanted me to check out some stupid gun he's been calibrating."

The krogan gave him a nod as he brushed past, heading out the door. Eve merely watched Shepard as he approached, finally uncurling her form and easing off the medical bed to greet him. She stood nearly as large as the male krogan that he'd seen but the layered robes that concealed her form and even most of her face gave her an air of mystery. It was odd after having dealt with krogan males for so long. Rarely was there any mystery or subterfuge.

"Commander. Thank you for your timely arrival. I did not think the krogan had any friends left in the galaxy..."

She inclined her head slightly and he returned the gesture, forcing a smile. "It's okay, you've got a reason to mistrust. For all the krogan have done the galaxy has treated you poorly. I'm curious, though. Friends usually share names, but Mordin just calls you Eve. That can't be krogan."

"It is not unexpected. We have not always been the... most diplomatic people," she replied with a shrug. "And my name was given up when I became a shaman among my people. It is an ancient tradition. But many traditions are changing, maybe this one too will shift someday if Wrex continues to guide our people into a new way of life."

The Spectre searched her eyes again, intrigued. She might have little worldly experience but the way she spoke... there was a hint of weariness and jaded understanding that reminded him immediately of Wrex. A self awareness most krogan seemed to lack. Even Grunt, for all his genetic perfection, had been focused solely on the next fight.

"What do you think of him?"

Her laugh caught him off guard. It wasn't the gravelly, harsh sound he had grown used to fighting alongside Wrex and Grunt; still deep, but with the rich sounds of genuine amusement.

"When he's not trying to sire half of Tuchanka? Wrex is the best hope for our people. He's intelligent, even wise. Just don't tell him that. His head is big enough as it is."

"Sounds like you know him well already," Shepard said.

She nodded. "I saw him when he first returned to Tuchanka. He managed to bribe or bully his way into many of the female camps. Spoke of a new krogan race, one that got up off its knees to fight for a place in the galaxy, refusing to let the genophage drive us to extinction."

"He's become quite the leader," he agreed. "Last time I was on your world he had united half a dozen clans under Urdnot's banner. By the time I left he had absorbed the remains of Weyrloc, too."

"So I heard. Wrex calls you battle-brother. It is a title of respect I have not heard him give to any other, even within Urdnot. Strange to hear one of our people speak of a human in such a way."

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly he shrugged. "When we were hunting down Saren... everyone said I was crazy for putting together the team I did. Even one of my own crew thought I put too much trust in the 'aliens'. But they accepted it, even each other. Now when I think of the four of us... those seem like better days."

The female laughed once more. "Yes, he did talk about his krantt that defeated the dreaded Saren Arterius. A human, a turian, and a quarian... fighting alongside a krogan battlemaster. You and your fool's quest gave him what he needed to change Tuchanka."

"I didn't give him anything. I just made him see that he didn't have to accept the world the way it is."

"That is merely another way of saying 'hope', Commander. And hope is the only weapon we truly have against the genophage. A single candle can dispel the darkness as long as it is kept burning. Wrex is that candle to our people now... but you were the one who lit it."

A faint, genuine smile crossed his lips. "I'm pretty sure the way Wrex tells the story it was he who that put the last bullet in Saren."

One scaled brow arched beneath Eve's shawl. "You'd be right. But I have long suspected it was you ever since I heard the story."

The smile faded as he remembered the day. The Presidium was burning around them. Saren, or at least the twisted mechanical husk that he'd become, had torn at them with unbridled fury. It had been a frantic, desperate fight. But in the end it hadn't been Wrex that struck the final blow... it hadn't even been him. Saren's withered form had leapt for him one last time and Garrus' sniper rifle had fired, almost tearing one of the rogue Spectre's limbs off. It still hadn't been enough to put him down for good: the husk's remaining talon had been wrapped around his throat when Tali's knife, the simple boot knife he'd teased her about never using, had sprouted from Saren's neck.

"No, it was... it was all of us. We were a team. A damn good one," he said finally, shaking his head.

"Then maybe when your krantt is together once more you will have that strength again."

Shepard looked past the female krogan for a moment through the windows of the medbay, seeing Wrex leaving the gunnery bay with Garrus, both laughing. A mercenary and a hot-headed cop, one a leader of his people and the other much the same. He forced another tired smile.

"I don't think that will happen. Whatever we had then... times change, people have their own paths to walk. I'll let you rest, Eve. Mordin will take care of you. We'll be on the Citadel in a few hours."

* * *

><p>When the door to the battery hissed open he had expected to see Shepard there, grim faced and looking far more worn than he had any right to. Instead he blinked in surprise, seeing Kasumi's much slighter form. As always, she was dressed in her form fitting suit with her hood pulled up to cover her head. When he had first met Shepard the strange little thief's blatant disregard for the law, and only passing acquaintance with that most coveted turian value of personal privacy, would have driven Garrus crazy. Now having her around seemed completely normal. In the months spent on Palaven trying in vain to prepare his people for the inevitable he'd even come to miss the thief's teasing comments and dry wit.<p>

"Going to invite me in? I know I tend to keep to my own little part of the ship - well as far as anyone ever knows at least - but I shouldn't think I'm that surprising," Kasumi said.

He motioned her inside. "Sorry."

"No problem. You look rough," the woman chirped, moving to hop up on the rail that separated his work area from the lower bay. "And I'm not talking about the scars."

"If you haven't noticed, there's a war on," Garrus said sharply.

"Trust me, I know."

The response was much more somber and he already regretted his rebuking tone. Kasumi had proven that she was more than just a careless thief in the months leading up to the assault on the Collector base; she'd stuck by them even when Shepard offered to let her go with no questions asked and had been one of Tali's first friends aboard the new Normandy. She wasn't cut from quite the same cloth as the rest of them; she wasn't a soldier, but in turian terms she had the same spirit - that dogged determination to do the right thing. And her relentless cheerfulness had been a needed contrast to the bitter cynicism that had gripped more than a few of the Normandy crew.

He sighed. "Sorry... again, I guess. I was just looking at reports from Primarch Victus for most of the night. Things aren't going well. We're giving it everything we've got, but..."

"Everything just doesn't cut it against Reapers."

"No, it doesn't. Victus was right, we need the krogan just to stand a chance."

"Well, at least he didn't ask for the yahg?"

Kasumi's feet dangled as she spoke, lightly tapping the lower rung of the railing with her heels. Her short stature had been a constant source of amusement during the last mission, with the ex-vigilante often wondering aloud how such tiny humans had evolved. Topping out a few centimeters over a meter and a half she came in well under his own two meter frame. A smirk found its way to his lip plates.

"True, we wouldn't want to recruit allies that consider you a bite sized snack."

Her only response was to stick her tongue out at him, a gesture he had learned was considered both rude and immature among humans.

"So why are you up here? Last time I checked you weren't fascinated by massive guns. And that's pretty much all I've got going on here."

"Gare... " she began, tone serious once more, enough so that he didn't immediately make a comment about her vexing nickname for him. "Chakwas kind of hired me for a little job. Deferred payment in the form of a favor. After I did it I kinda figured you'd be the one to talk to."

His brows raised slightly. "And why is that?"

"She asked me to hack Shepard's private terminal."

"Dammit, doesn't Shepard have enough to worry about without people digging into his personal accounts? Why the hell would you even agree to do that?" Garrus demanded immediately. Almost by instinct he'd moved closer, invading her space, nostrils flaring in anger.

"Look, I didn't say I liked the job!"

The sharpness of her voice actually gave him pause. Kasumi only occasionally let the cheerful mask drop, but never to show anger, not in months of being stuck aboard the Normandy with a dozen other people of questionable mental stability. He tried again, calmer this time.

"So I'll ask again, why did you do it?"

"Because she said she was worried about him. And... well I was a little worried, too," Kasumi admitted. "I mean, look, the guy is great and all. Watched him do all sorts of crazy stuff. But I've been back on the ship for all of a week and even I can tell he's not quite the same as he was six months ago."

Garrus' expression softened further and he sighed, moving to lean against the railing next to her.

"He's... backsliding, I think is the human term."

"You've known him longer, you're going to have to explain here, Gare."

"You remember how he was when you first met him?" Garrus asked, then quickly added, "And don't call me Gare."

Her expression clearly said she would do nothing of the sort. "Mhm. He seemed a little sad, very driven. I mean he had just been brought back from the dead. That's enough to give anyone some issues."

"History lesson, then. The Shepard I met when he was first hunting down Saren, he was humanity's rising star. Top of his class for special forces and newly made their first Spectre. Over the next few months we went through hell trying to stop Saren... I'm sure you know the story."

Kasumi nodded. "Quite well, actually. Once you got her going Tali was quite the little chatterbox."

He chuckled quietly. "We all noticed, though at the start we all hated each other. Wrex thought I was a fascist turian dog and everyone else on the ship was a weakling, Tali thought we were both heartless and cruel, and all I saw in them was a savage and a vagabond. And of course Kaidan and Ashley thought we were all crazy or untrustworthy, respectively. Shepard forced us to actually pay attention to each other long enough to get over our preconceptions... by the time it was done we all knew more about each other than most families."

"He has a knack for that," she agreed, cocking her head. "But what's your point?"

"My point is that for all the crap he got us to tell him, he hardly ever talked about himself. It was only after Virmire and... Kaidan's death that we finally got his story out of him. All about Akuze, losing his squad. The shit they don't mention in the bio-vids. He rarely lost his temper even in those days, though. Only happened twice. Right after Kaidan died, and then during a mission to clear out some pirates. Slavers. Nasty stuff."

The turian continued. "After he came back from the dead, though? I guess everything caught up with him. He was more reckless, more prone to letting his anger get the best of him. Maybe a little more ruthless. I even smelled alcohol on him a few times after the crew hadn't seen him all night."

He carefully didn't mention the incident on Illium. Kasumi was a friend, but that break in his Commander's personal armor wasn't something he was going to bring up on the off chance that Kasumi wasn't already aware. Either way, it had been between the three of them, which is where it would stay unless Shepard himself brought it up.

"Really? Being a thief it pays to be observant but I never noticed."

"Our senses are pretty keen," Garrus said, tapping his nose. "The point I'm making is it took everything we went through hunting down Saren to figure out Shepard wasn't invincible."

"Okay so I get all that, but I remember him getting better too. It took some serious helping, but once he and Tali stop being so damn stubborn..." Kasumi shrugged.

"That was quite the turn of events. You have no idea how hard it was not to just tell him. I mean even with the envirosuit Tali was... not subtle."

"Why didn't you? I thought you two were all, you know?" she asked, making some bizarre gestures with her fingers. "That macho blood and fire and beating drums brother-of-my-heart stuff. Hetero life partners, whatever. Isn't that the kind of stuff you're supposed to do for each other?"

"Nah, tactless statements about personal relations were always more Wrex's area. I mean if I thought that it had to be done I would have. But I figured Shepard needed to work it out on his own."

The thief gave him a mischievous smile. "We're alike in that respect, though my motives weren't completely altruistic. The whole thing was like a romance vid; I couldn't stop watching."

Technically he should scold the woman on Shepard's behalf. It would be more than a little hypocritical considering the betting pool he and Joker had started regarding when Shepard and Tali would admit that they were together. A pool that he had won, now that he thought about it.

"Problem is as much as Tali helped him... it was like tossing a drowning man a rope and then letting go when he's half way up."

"But he's the one that let go of the rope!" Kasumi said in exasperation.

"Trust me, I know. But six months stuck on Earth after the... incident in the Bahak system? Add in the Reapers hitting Earth and having to leave it behind. Spirits, leaving Palaven behind almost killed me. And my people are actually still fighting properly, not waging a guerrilla war for a planet that's already fallen."

"But why? I mean I understand the guilt about leaving your planet behind. I haven't even been to Earth in years and I felt bad. But he's a damn hero. The guy has made a hobby out of saving people."

"I never really figured it out, not all of it. When he came back he was concerned about the cybernetics, what it all meant. That he wasn't the same guy anymore. I thought he'd gotten it together, moved past it," Garrus said with a shrug. "I think sometimes he just considers every damn thing his personal responsibility..."

Kasumi glanced at him from beneath the hood, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "When I hacked his account Chakwas asked me to see if he'd been reaching out to anyone. Tali, Wrex... any of his old crew. But his search history was just news reports. No other searches. No extranet purchases, not even alcohol."

"Which means he's either back to being a stubborn idiot or he's found some other vice to take the edge off. Spirits... I feel like I'm watching a bad vid, yelling at the screen for the characters to not be so stupid."

Pushing himself off the rail, Garrus turned around and gripped the metal, his talons making an audible scratching sound as they tightened on the metal. He hated the uncertainty of it, longing for the days when everything had been simple. Shepard had told them the mission, they had a clearly defined goal to stop Saren, and everything just worked. Every problem could be solved with a bullet or a punch. When Shepard had come back from the dead Garrus hadn't been much better, seeing the faces of his team in his dreams. However, he'd been able to claw his own way out of the hole once Shepard had pulled him back from the abyss.

But he honestly didn't know how to do the same thing for the human that had saved him. The turian had even tried messaging Tali on the Migrant Fleet, to try and explain what had happened, tell her about Earth, about Shepard... but there had been no response. Not even a confirmation of receipt. Somewhere on the edge of the galaxy the quarians had gone dark. So he was left not knowing how to help... and it made him feel infuriatingly helpless. The same feeling he got whenever he looked at Victus' casualty reports from Palaven.

"Hey..."

A small hand on his arm, dainty even, but it squeezed firmly. Kasumi's lips edged up into a faint smile as the eyes beneath the hood met his own.

"Don't go jumping down the pit after him. I'm totally not going to be the responsible one. I'm allergic."

Garrus' mandibles twitched in amusement, relaxing ever so slightly as the slim human derailed his train of thought into the darker corners of his mind.

"That would leave you and Joker in charge, so yeah, I guess that's a bad idea. I'm just not sure how to fix things."

"We'll keep his head above water, that's all we can do. I'm not giving up on him anymore than you are. I guess that makes me part of this crazy family now too. I blame Tali. A few months of talking to her and I kept feeling like I was talking to my little sister. Even if we're not related. Or the same species."

He nodded in thanks.

"You know, there's a turian rite for that..."

* * *

><p>"You sure you're going to head out alone?" Garrus asked, following after Shepard. "Kasumi said she'd heard reports of indoctrinated agents targeting important people. An asari killed some high level diplomats before she killed herself."<p>

Shepard raised a hand to stop him. "I'll be fine. If they're going to target anyone it will be Eve and Wrex. Get them to the lab we got set up for Mordin and back to the ship safely. I'm just going to check on Ash."

The turian didn't look entirely satisfied with the answer but nodded his assent, moving back up the ramp towards the Normandy. In the hundreds of messages he'd received one that stated that Ashley had regained consciousness the day before. Now that they were back on the Citadel the least he could do was check and make sure she was doing better. As for the rest of the letters... he'd finally forced himself to read them. It seemed like cowardice to leave them sitting there.

There had been precious few bright spots. Shiala, the asari commando that had stayed on Feros to help the colonists rebuild, had sent him a message. Apparently the remaining legacy of the Thorian had given the colonists a limited form of telepathy or group-mind, something that they were using to great effect combating the Reaper ground forces that were trying to overrun the colony. A small shred of hope was better than nothing.

As he walked through the Citadel's corridors he couldn't help but marvel at how mundane it all still seemed. True, the docking bays were thick with refugees and travellers trying to escape, and news updates regarding the war rang loud over the intercom, but for the most part people seemed to still be going about their lives. The only indication that the galaxy was falling apart was the considerably larger fleet that floated around the Citadel itself, along with the heavy mines that funneled the relay traffic down a very specific space lane. Whether those defenses would be enough to stop the Reapers if they decided to come for the Citadel once more, he didn't know. But it was clear they wouldn't take it without a fight.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear the voice calling his name.

"Shepard!"

He stopped, turning on his heel towards the sound... and immediately had to restrain his defensive reflexes as a young woman threw herself at him. The Spectre barely had time to register red hair and glittering eyes before she was on him, arms wrapped around his chest. Finally his brain caught up.

"Kelly?"

"I was afraid you were dead!"

The woman pulled away, brushing hair from her eyes. Everything about her looked tired, dark circles under her eyes and scratches on her hands. Unlike the pristine Cerberus uniform he'd seen her in every day aboard the Normandy here she was wearing a wrinkled set of civilian clothes. Even the hug she had given him had spoken of exhaustion. After everything that had happened, especially on Sur'Kesh, he couldn't make any assumptions, though.

"You're not with Cerberus anymore, Kelly?"

"No. Not after you turned yourself in. I just kind of... disappeared, I guess no one cared about me," she said with a shrug. "I've been here since the Reapers attacked. Just trying to do... something for all the refugees. There are so many kids without families, people that are hungry or sick."

"You look tired. I'm glad to see you got away from Cerberus, though. The things they're doing now," he trailed off, expression darkening. "Ken and Gabby are back aboard the Normandy, though. If you're interested I'm sure we could find you a bunk."

"I... I can't, Shepard."

Her voice cracked and he reached out a hand, resting it on her shoulder. The look she gave him was tormented and finally a few tears escaped.

"It was just a suggestion, I'm not demanding anything. But we're running on a skeleton crew and I always like having people I can trust."

"Trust? I'm sorry, Shepard... I sent reports to the Illusive Man on all of you. I kept wanting to tell you, but..."

Shepard gave her a reassuring smile. "You were afraid. And I know, Kelly. Hell, I always knew."

"Really?"

"Really. So if that's all that's stopping you... don't let it. I forgive you."

In truth he realized that he did. Kelly's amazingly perky attitude and burning desire to know every detail of the lives of the crew had grated on him at times. And he had always known that the Illusive Man was getting reports on all of their psychological conditions and goings on. But then, Miranda had been sending the same reports. Not once had Kelly shown the slightest bit of malice in anything she'd done or said. Shepard was always a big believer in judging people by their actions... but sometimes you had to consider intent as well.

"I wish it was," Kelly said quietly. "But I still... I still have nightmares. About the abduction. I want to help you but I just can't go back on the Normandy. And I've found something here I can do, helping the refugees. It doesn't pay much but I've got a little apartment in the Wards. It makes me feel useful."

"I understand. But you need to do something for me, okay?"

She cocked her head slightly. "What?"

"You're noticeable, Kelly, and I know you. You probably tell every person you meet your name and your life story. Cerberus... they're not lying low anymore. And they've got agents in places I would never have imagined. I won't tell you to stop helping, but you need to make some changes. Get a new ID, change your appearance."

"I don't have my Cerberus contacts anymore, Commander," she said with a sigh.

"No, you've got Spectre contacts now. Contact Commander Bailey at C-Sec. Tell him it's a personal request from me. He'll get you new documents, that sort of thing."

Kelly smiled, and for a brief moment some of the fatigue disappeared. "Thank you. You... didn't have to do that. Oh! I almost forgot, I'm so tired. Silly me. I have your babies!"

For a brief moment Shepard's brain completely locked up, trying to process what she'd just said. His jaw worked without sound until he finally managed to form words.

"You have my what?"

"The fish! And Urz. What did you think I meant?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but it doesn't matter now. You have my fish?" he asked.

"Of course. When you surrendered the Normandy I got a message from... a certain information broker. She said that your personal effects were being removed and the 'pets' were going to be disposed of unless someone took them."

Shepard frowned. "They were going to kill my damn fish? And Urz?"

"I guess so. So I took them in. The fish aren't too happy, though, I couldn't afford a tank as big as the one you have on the Normandy. I can have them delivered, though! And Urz. Tiny warning, though..." Kelly trailed off for a moment, grinning at him sheepishly. "He's gotten used to sleeping on the bed."

"Well, now I'm not sure what to say, but thank you. I'm glad to see someone took care of them when I was too irresponsible to think ahead. You can keep Urz with you, if you want. I mean a ship isn't necessarily the best place and if he's gotten used to you..."

"No, it's alright. I'm technically not even supposed to have pets over thirty kilos anyways."

"Yea, definitely over that limit."

She nodded. "Definitely. I'll have them all delivered to the Normandy as soon as I make it home. Thank you again, Commander. I'm so glad I got to see you."

"I think you can call me Shepard at least, Kelly."

"Thanks... Shepard."

The universe was full of small coincidences. At least for once it had been a good one, giving him a brief moment where he didn't want to put his fist through a bulkhead. Watching Kelly walk away, he opened up his omni-tool and did a quick scan, shaking his head as he immediately picked her up. Open frequency of course, sharing mode activated. Tapping a few keys he accessed her operating system. He was no hacker on par with Kasumi or Tali, but he could do a few things. Especially to a system as poorly secured as Kelly's.

A few minutes later he terminated the connection, long after she'd moved out of sight. She probably wouldn't even notice for awhile, but eventually she'd find her ID no longer broadcasting - in fact it wasn't even registered under her name of 'Kelly Chambers' anymore, but rather one of the default OS user names. Before he'd completed the wipe he'd also made a small deposit into her credit account; the least he could do. She was Normandy crew, whether she still served on the ship or not.

His business done, Shepard continued on, stepping into the elevator and keying in Huerta Memorial into the pad before settling in for the usual long ride. When the doors to the hospital finally opened he was immediately faced with a harried looking asari in medical garb, a nurse if he read the insignia right. She gave him a quick look over and shook her head.

"You don't look critically injured. I'm sorry, sir, but we're operating at capacity. For any non-life threatening conditions I can direct you to a clinic a few levels down."

"I'm not here for treatment, I'm visiting a friend. Can you give me the room number for Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams?"

"Williams? Oh. Oh! You're Commander Shepard! I'm sorry, everyone is starting to look the same. I mean, not just the humans," she added quickly.

"It's alright. The room?"

"Of course. She's in... 314B."

"Thanks."

On impulse Shepard stopped at the small gift shop the hospital maintained. Some sort of ingrained hospital etiquette told him he should show up with an offering of some kind. The issue he quickly discovered with hospital gift shops was that they didn't exactly cater to wounded marines. Teddy bears and candy, flowers, little trinkets... not exactly marine fare, unless you were going for some odd kind of joke. He was about to leave when he spotted something behind the counter that caught his eye.

"Are those actual books?"

The salarian, previously engrossed in whatever he was doing on his omni-tool, looked up and nodded rapidly. "Yes, started stocking them when we saw a larger influx of human patients. Some of your people are oddly attached to physical copies of words. I find it rather... antiquated, but I just work here."

"Some of us get attached to old things. They remind us of better times," he explained quietly. "Can you hand me that one?"

"Of course."

His eyes had been right. The book was small, with a green plastic cover, certainly no find antique. But scrawled across the front in silver, looping script it read 'Tennyson - In Memoriam A.H.H. and other collected works'. Setting the item down on the counter he activated his omni-tool and made the necessary credit transfer to the clerk without further debate. The chances of finding a better peace offering for the wounded marine seemed slim. A voice at his elbow almost sent him reaching for a gun that wasn't there before the sound registered.

"Interesting. In our conversations, I never thought you as one for poetry."

Dark eyes and a faint smirk greeted him when he turned around, extending his hand.

"Still sneaking around, Thane? I hadn't expected to find you here."

The drell clasped his hand firmly but Shepard could feel a faint tremor there. Thane had served well during the mission to stop the Collectors. His penance, he called it, for a life as an assassin and a final act of a dying man. Seeing him alive was a relief, but he could see signs of strain in the man's eyes and the way he walked as they exited the gift shop.

"This is where I live now," he said simply.

"I see."

They stepped over to the large bay windows that looked out over the Presidium. He held the book behind his back and watched the stream of aircars disappear into the distance for a few long moments before speaking again, already hating the words as he said them.

"There's a war on out there. I could use someone with your skills."

"Would that I could put them at your disposal once more, Commander, but I fear it would not be as it was before. My illness has sapped my stamina, dulled my reflexes with pain. There comes a time when one must step away from conflict. I am sorry that my time has come already."

He looked over at the man and shook his head. "No, don't be sorry for that. Be sorry that you're not getting the time you deserve. You're a good man, Thane. I hope if you took anything away from your time on the Normandy, it was that."

"I learned much aboard the Normandy, Shepard. But do not worry about me. I have good doctors. My son visits regularly."

"Kolyat? How is he?"

Thane smiled. "Well. When Commander Bailey was promoted he hired Kolyat officially rather than in his previous 'consulting' capacity. Just before the conflict broke out he informed me that he would be eligible to take his detective evaluations within a few months."

"Detective in barely a year?"

"Yes. Apparently he has applied himself admirably and while I did not approve of him following... my path, the skills I have been able to impart have proven valuable. My son will walk a more righteous path. I..." the drell trailed off as a wet, unpleasant sounding cough overtook him for a moment. Shepard moved to help but he was waved off.

"My apologies, it takes me suddenly sometimes. I am fine."

The Spectre winced at the pained sound in the drell's voice. "I wish there was more I could do."

"You have already done much, Shepard. And I am at peace. It is freeing to find no requirements placed on me. No responsibilities, no fears. It is a good end to a life."

"The Reapers are here," Shepard said. "If you have no fears... you're a better man than I am."

The drell's hand was on his shoulder now. "I have no fears because I have a greater strength, Shepard. I have faith. Now I believe you are here to see the human that was just moved out of ICU. Ashley Williams?"

He didn't question the other man's faith. Who was he, in times such as this, to voice his doubts about any higher power? Instead, he simply nodded in agreement.

"She was hurt on a mission under my command. After everything with Cerberus our friendship was more than little strained. I wanted to check in on her, maybe make a 'let bygones by bygones' speech. Hence the book."

"Good. In these times friends cannot afford to mistrust. While I am not... up to my previous standards, my mind is still unclouded and my strength has not left me completely. I will watch over her while she here."

"Thank you, Thane. It's good to have a few friends left in the galaxy."

Thane inclined his head respectfully. "Arashu watch over you, Shepard."

* * *

><p>The closest description she could give whenever the doctors asked that most inane question 'where does it hurt' was 'everywhere'. Ashley Williams had a long list of things she was not a fan of. Aliens had been at the top of that list three years ago, but serving aboard the Normandy had softened her views there, both by association and Shepard's own stubborn refusal to accept her prejudices. Doctors, lawyers, and politicians, though? Those were still on the list. Chakwas had gotten a pass, but she was starting to eye the IV line in her arm for its uses as a possible garrote if one more cheerful nurse woke her up in the middle of the night for yet another test or medication.<p>

If she was completely honest, however, she would admit that Ashley was mad at Ashley. For being in a damn hospital in the first place, getting herself hurt when she should have been on the Normandy or back on Earth. Fighting the Reapers. Doing something. Instead she was listening to doctors talk about regeneration timelines. Or Udina, managing to be even more irritating, coming to her to discuss the possibility of becoming a Spectre of all things.

What had she done to earn herself that sort of title? Getting the crap beaten out of you by a killer robot hardly seemed the best thing to add to a resume. Udina had certainly laid it on thick, though. Told her that she was an exceptional soldier and that the galaxy, and Earth, needed people like her now more than ever. Praised her loyalty and courage. Some part of her craved the praise. The thought that the Williams legacy of shame was finally disappearing. But a larger part couldn't help but feel like something was off about the entire situation.

Lost in her own thoughts she missed the door opening until a deep voice interrupted her chain of self-loathing.

"Buck up, Williams. You're not going to heal up looking like your dog just died. That's an order."

She responded on instinct. "Yes, sir."

Shepard chuckled. "That's better."

Once her brain caught up to her mouth she looked at the man more closely. Shepard might have been ordering her to get better, but it seemed like he needed to take his own advice. There were dark circles under his eyes, not to mention the general paleness of his skin or the rough layer of stubble that covered his jaw. He had never exactly been the clean cut and proper type of CO, she had respected him more for that in truth, but now he just looked vaguely unkempt.

"I... ah, brought you something. I'm sure you could find it all on the extranet but, well... here," he said, placing a small book on the edge of her bed.

Picking it up she smiled, even though the expression alone hurt her bruised face. Tennyson. Death, coma... whatever it was Cerberus had done to him apparently hadn't affected his memory.

"Thanks, sir. Extranet or not a book just... feels right, you know?"

"I won't argue with that. How are you feeling?"

She gave an unladylike snort. "Like I got hit by a truck. The nurse told me you visited. After they brought me in that first day. Guess I was still unconscious."

"You didn't really seem up to a conversation at the time, no," Shepard said, the humor fading from his voice a moment later. "Had us all worried for a minute there, Ash. I wondered if I was going to have another ghost haunting me."

Ashley did her best to keep her response light. "No hauntings, Shepard. I haven't been to church in awhile but I think I'm still good with the big guy upstairs."

"I'm sure you are. I'm sure you're tired. I don't want to impose..."

"No, it's okay. I mean, if you're still... willing to talk. I mean you made it pretty clear where we stood on Mars."

He arched an eyebrow. "Where we stood?"

"That you're not with Cerberus anymore. Full stop."

"I never was. I just wish you'd have believed me the first time I said it," the Spectre said with a sigh.

Unable to suppress a wince she leaned back against the bed. Horizon. Ashley had kicked herself for months over that, rehearsed in her head how it could have gone better. If she'd said something different, made a different choice... Instead she had effectively called her former commanding officer and traitor and threatened to kill him. And as much as she wanted to trust him, every time she looked at him Cerberus' damn experiments had flashed in her head.

"I know. Things just got out of hand. All the things we saw Cerberus do, then all the rumors after you suddenly came back from the dead?"

"Rumors?"

"You've probably heard most of them," she said. "The first ones were that someone had cloned the famous Commander Shepard. All the conspiracy nuts were accusing various governments. Then we just started getting reports of 'incidents'. Purgatory's destruction. Some kind of gang war on Omega. By the time Horizon came around..."

"You thought I was a Cerberus puppet." The statement wasn't an accusation, but the bitterness in his tone was difficult to miss.

Ashley sighed. "Yea, I did. And it made it hard. I don't know what to say. I reacted badly, okay?"

"Did you just apologize? Too bad Wrex isn't here. I'm sure he'd get a kick out of that."

The sudden change in tone caught her off guard and she laughed, a painful experience, considering her bruised ribcage. "Oh. Ow ow... goto hell."

"Go to hell...?" he paused, brows raised in expectation.

She shot him a cross look but relented. "Go to hell... sir."

"That's the Ashley Williams I remember," Shepard said, his smile weary as he moved back to more serious topics. "I don't know what to tell you from here, Ash. The galaxy is going to hell all on its own and we have to stop it. But we're going to have to trust one another."

Swallowing heavily she nodded. "I know. Just give me time, let me figure this all out and get away from these damned doctors."

Shepard stood and moved to the door, looking back but not at her, gaze fixed on somewhere far away. "Just get better and if you need anything just drop me a line. Things are getting bad out there, Ash, and people are going to need someone to lead them."

Then he was gone, out the door and onto the next mission. Taking the fight to the Reapers somewhere in the galaxy without her, though not for long if she had anything to say about it. She looked down at the small book he'd given her and then back to the doorway, rolling his last words around in her mind before speaking to the empty room.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to lead us, Shepard..."

* * *

><p>"Daro'Xen has given us the tools we need. We would be fools not to take this opportunity!"<p>

"We would be fools to start a war while the Reapers burn worlds!" Tali snapped. "J- Shepard warned us, all of us, that they were coming. And now that he's been proven right, you want to start a war with the geth?"

"You have not been an admiral long, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," Daro'Xen interjected, her tone dripping with condescension as she lingered over her ship name. "Maybe you do not understand the necessity of those in our position to make difficult decisions."

Tali wanted to scream in frustration, to just grab the others and shake them. How could they not see what they were doing? And worst of all, it was one of the few people that she had trusted, Han'Gerrel, leading the charge into madness - proposing that they strike at the geth with Daro'Xen's new countermeasures and reclaim the homeworld in one fell swoop. They had already begun arming the Flotilla for war in the months previous. She had naively thought that they had taken her warnings of the impending Reaper threat seriously.

No more seriously than the humans, apparently. The thought stabbed her like a knife and a wave of bitterness threatened to choke her. She had seen the videos from Shepard's court martial that Liara had somehow acquired and, with reluctance, provided to her. He had left her behind to warn his people, to accept 'responsibility for his actions' he'd said... and they had locked him away.

"Don't lecture me on difficult decisions, Xen."

Zaal'Koris, of all people, came to her aid. "Tali might be one of the youngest admirals ever appointed but I think it was made abundantly clear she makes up that in experience."

"You only care because it supports your position. Less than a year ago you were doing your best to exile your new ally," Han'Gerrel countered.

"Unlike some, I am willing to learn from my mistakes."

Gerrel slammed a fist on the table. "Not retaking our homeworld when we have a chance would be a mistake!"

"Please, calm yourself, Han," Shala'Raan urged.

Ever the peacemaker, her dear aunt. The woman that had been her rock after the death of her mother, providing the support that her father couldn't, or wouldn't, give her. For all the fondness in Tali's heart, though, in this moment she couldn't help but feel resentment. Shala wanted peace and communion; all the things that quarians most valued. An admirable outlook for someone that was supposed to represent the best interests of the people, but one that meant she was far too hesitant to take a firm stance when it came down to the wire. A mother hen that couldn't bear to fight her charges.

_Down to the __wire__. Mother hen... I _really_ did pick up too many human idioms from John._

"I do not see why this is even a debate," Xen sighed. "The conclave clearly favors retaking the homeworld... and we have the ability to do so. What logical reason is there to not do so?"

"Other than the thousands of sentient starships currently invading half the galaxy?" Tali asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or would you like to ask them politely to wipe out all organic life except us?"

_Maybe a little too much from Shepard._

"I think you make my point exactly."

Tali blinked behind her visor. "What?"

"As your _human_ captain so eloquently pointed out when he was last among us, these Reapers are a threat to the entire galaxy. If he intends to ask for our aid then we will need a refuge for our civilians. We cannot risk our entire race," Xen pointed out, voice silky now. "I'd think even the great Commander Shepard would agree with that."

Turning her own words against her. All Tali could do was grind her teeth at the audacity of the woman. Did she really think that Shepard would have agreed with anything that came out of her mouth? But there was enough twisted logic there that she couldn't just dismiss the woman. Admiral or not, she was out of her depth. They had given her the position out of respect for her father and he knowledge of the geth, using her popularity among some sections of the Flotilla to support their own agendas.

Now all Tali could do was wish she had never accepted the offer. But it was a long list of things she wished for. She wished that her father hadn't died in the first place, leaving the responsibility of her entire people on her unprepared shoulders. She wished that her arguments had been more convincing when Shepard had decided to turn himself in, that she'd been good enough to keep him there, to understand the sudden distance in his eyes. That she didn't feel tears of pain and anger welling up whenever she looked at the ancient stone tablets that sat in her small room, a heartfelt gift that now just reminded her of what she'd lost all over again.

And in that moment she wished she could just punch Daro'Xen right in her smug face plate.

"Admiral Xen is right, I am afraid, Tali," Shala said. "If we are going to help win this war, we must have a place to protect our civilians."

The words still felt like a betrayal, even if she could understand her aunt's reasoning behind them. Han'Gerrel leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. "Then I call a vote. We go to war with the geth, and we retake the homeworld. I vote aye."

"Aye," Daro'Xen agreed immediately.

Zaal'Koris shook his head vehemently and Tali did the same, their vote the same. "Nay."

"Aye."

She looked to Shala sadly. If only she knew the words to say, to convince them all of what she already knew. To let them see what she had learned while aboard the Normandy, how Legion had spoken to her, told her things, even saved her life. But she didn't have the words. There were no clever speeches that she could muster to sway their minds. Han'Gerrel merely nodded, leaning back in his seat.

"Then it is done. We go to war. _Keelah se'lai_."

The words were ashes in her mouth.

"_Keelah se'lai_."


	10. Chapter 9: Fate

Chapter 9: Fate

Genius was certainly a word to describe Mordin Solus. In a matter of days he had run his tests, begun synthesizing various chemicals and compounds, and had pronounced that he had completed the most painstaking part of the process that was necessary to complete a counter-agent for the genophage. After two days of nonstop work he informed Shepard that he was going to take a one hour nap, and then they could leave once he'd run a final set of tests. Shepard had only been able to shake his head.

_Crazy, obsessed, and 'mad scientist' might be some other good words. But he did it. That's all that matters._

Now Shepard was looking out at the Presidium once more, watching the cars pass and taking in the warm glow of the artificial sunlight that made everything look gleaming and clean. At least Huerta Memorial had a good view. He had visited Thane once more for a while before they prepared to depart, sharing a few more stories of the old days and managed to hold a brief conversation with Kolyat. The look of pride in Thane's eyes as his son had spoken of his plans had been enough to chase away the darkness for a little while, but then Thane had therapy to attend to with a very insistent asari nurse that had called him by an assumed name. It had been amusing to wonder if she would have been so sharp had she known who her patient truly was.

The sound of armored steps caught his attention. Much to his surprise it was Javik that approached, moving to stand next to him.

"Javik. Hadn't expected to see you out here."

The prothean shrugged. "Your 'C-Sec' was very confused when they attempted their security scans. The ship's AI informed them of my position as a member of your ship, however, and there were no further questions. I had not realized that your position was one of such importance."

"My position is one of gray areas and poorly defined limits," he said dryly. "Spectre is as much a curse as a title I've learned since I took it up. People are almost as frightened of you as they are of the enemy."

"This does not seem to be a problem. Fear is the first step on the path to respect. It is how they learn who to follow."

"Maybe."

"We forged an empire that lasted for thousands of years on that very principle, Commander," Javik stated without emotion. Merely reciting a fact. "Fear prevents wars from ever beginning."

"Except when you meet an enemy that you can't intimidate. What brings you out, though? I never got the impression that you were much for socializing."

A small chuckle came from Javik but there was little humor in it. The prothean was silent for a long moment, taking in the expansive view with an almost religious reverence. All four of his eyes closed briefly before opening as he spoke.

"I wished to see the Citadel with my own eyes. It was lost long before I was ever born... many doubted it even existed in the twilight hours of our existence. Simply a wondrous story told by elders to frightened children without a future. Seeing it now is strange. Alive, but different than I ever imagined."

"It's an interesting place. Nowhere else in the galaxy do so many races interact, intertwine," Shepard agreed. "A shame that it's nothing more than a glorious death trap."

"Such as it was in my time. The seat of our power and the key to our downfall."

The two soldiers lapsed into silence once more. In the brief looks he had gotten into Javik's mind, combined with their few conversations, he had gotten a picture of an uncompromising warrior. Ruthless to the extreme with a view that was so solidly defined by 'survival of the fittest' that it would have done the most traditional krogan proud and had a superiority complex to match. The prothean didn't seem to be intentionally antagonistic but thus far Shepard was the only one he spoke to as anything approaching an equal. For all those differences, though, there was a familiarity to the alien soldier. A sense of weariness that Shepard could identify all too well.

"I had a question. Regarding the mission to come," Javik said, breaking the silence.

"I'm all ears."

Javik gave him an odd look at the expression but continued. "The goal is to eliminate this genophage that has crippled the krogans. Many would oppose this, possibly more than would approve. In doing so you may alienate potential allies that you do not have the strength to demand obedience from."

"There a question in there?" he asked.

"A simple one. The krogan will fight, with or without a cure, because the Reapers will leave them no other choice. Would it not be simpler at least to lie to them and promise a cure after the war?"

The Spectre frowned, gathering his thoughts. "It probably would be. I could threaten to withhold it, make them fight for us. Chances are there wouldn't be enough krogan left by the time it was over to complain one way or the other."

"Then why?"

"Did you know that Mordin, the salarian that came with us, was one of the scientists that helped perpetuate the genophage? Modified it so it wouldn't lose its effectiveness."

Javik made a gesture of agreement with his hands.

"I was aware. I sense in him great remorse, it falls off him like sheets of rain."

"At the time he was convinced what he was doing was right. Protecting the galaxy," Shepard explained, not looking at anything in particular now, just staring out the window. "Completely assured in fact that he and his superiors knew what was best. But then he saw the results of his work. The deaths... stillborns and mothers dying from complications. All the pain and sorrow, repeating itself for centuries. All justified by the need to prevent pain and sorrow of another war with the krogan. A cycle of death."

The prothean nodded. "It was a through solution, thorough, as I have said before, inelegant. Better to put your enemy out of their misery than leave them with nothing, but still alive. It is needless and makes them all the more dangerous."

"The point is all that pain and death has gone on for centuries to punish generations of people that only know of the Krogan Rebellions as history. And it's accepted because the krogans are known across the galaxy as untrustworthy brutes. Too bloodthirsty and aggressive to be allowed to run free. But I met a krogan, fought with him, bled with him. Listened to his stories, heard the pain in his voice that he tried to disguise."

Shepard thought back to the original Normandy. The look of utter confusion when he'd handed Wrex his family's ancient armor and asked nothing in return, the slow realization that what they had forged together wasn't just a business transaction. And seeing a small light in his friend's eyes when he understood that there was at least one person in the galaxy that he could trust. And later hearing Wrex's own gruff but surprisingly insightful advice when he had admitted to problems of his own. Wrex was violent and bloodthirsty, but he was also loyal, intelligent, and a friend.

"So why would I cure the genophage? Because we've all made mistakes in life. Mordin's not the only one with blood on his hands... and if I can give Wrex and his people a chance at a future? Then I will. Maybe I want to do one thing that will give life instead of take it."

There was a slight rumble next to him but he couldn't tell if it was amusement or disagreement.

"A dangerous sentiment in these times, Commander. The Reapers do not have sentiment. Or fear. What if by sacrificing the krogan people you would gain the edge to finally defeat the Reapers? That is the decision you may be forced to make. Would you let them die, fading into memory like my people?"

He thought, long and hard. And he could taste ash in his mouth when he answered, finally meeting Javik's eyes.

"I would. I'll do whatever it takes to stop the Reapers... or it's all for nothing. When this is all said and done I'm sure they'll curse my memory as much as they celebrate it. Or maybe I'll just be forgotten."

"Your skills are impressive. You do not think you will survive this war to write your own history?" the prothean asked, sounding honestly intrigued.

Shepard shook his head. Dreams, years worth of them, roiled in the back of his mind like storm clouds. The faces of the dead, refusing to ever be forgotten, the images of annihilation that had been with him ever since he touched the beacon on Eden Prime. And those most recent horrific visions that took hold whenever he closed his eyes since the invasion of Earth began. A dead world covered in soot and ash. It was said in many cultures that dreams could foretell the future, give hints to a man's fate. His had been telling him the same thing for a very long time.

"No, Javik. One way or the other... the future will belong to whoever comes after. I don't expect to see it."

The prothean did not reply. They just went back to watching the aircars and their mesmerizing patterns, soaring over gardens and homes. A moment of peace before stepping onto a warship once more and sallying forth to fight demons of silicon and steel.

* * *

><p>"I've apparently got people waiting to talk to me, Mordin, so make it quick. I don't imagine people that call the war room like being kept on hold."<p>

"Of course. Always quick," the salarian assured him.

Pulling the Spectre to one corner of the medbay, away from Eve and an Urdnot Wrex that could only be described as 'hovering', the salarian lowered his voice as he continued.

"Wanted to tell you that all tests check out, cure is complete. Will be some changes due to cure, however. Cannot alter such widespread genetic modification without it. Wanted to tell you first before informing Urdnot Wrex. Possible negative reaction... problematic."

He fixed Mordin with a stern look. "What do you mean changes?"

"Used Maelon's data to create retrovirus. Replicate effect that experimentation had on Eve, but without near fatal side effects. Have corrected most side effects for Eve already. Prefer to avoid more in future," the doctor explained. "Retrovirus will modify krogan genetic code, task some vestigial organs to create hormones and proteins that will counteract genophage. Greater stress and more demand for nutrients on krogan females. Will result in significantly smaller clutches than previous krogan birth cycle. Also, longer gestation. Was necessary to give body time to produce sufficient chemicals to prevent stillbirths."

"Let me get this straight, you're going to cure them... but their pregnancies will be longer and they won't have as many kids at once?"

Mordin nodded. "Correct."

"I'm not saying that it's necessarily a bad thing but I can already see Wrex accusing you of doing it on purpose to help curtail the krogan."

He sighed, rubbing his temples and trying to push away the dull throb. In the grand scheme of things it was actually fairly good news. It might help prevent a krogan baby boom of such magnitude that it strained Tuchanka's local economy and assuage fears of a 'krogan horde' sweeping up the galaxy in a second Krogan Rebellion. But Shepard could also already hear Wrex's rumblings. The questions about whether it really was a cure or just a new form of genophage. Mordin had apparently been thinking the same thing from his next words.

"Understand, Commander. Will release all of my data to Clan Urdnot for review. Current state of war with Reapers required expediency, no time for reworking cure until perfect. Admittedly can appear self-serving, still somewhat lowering krogan birth rate. Unavoidable. But can promise, no more infertility. No more stillbirths. And over all krogan birth rate even with slight reductions still approximately one thousand and thirteen percent greater than current situation."

"Alright. I'll deal with Wrex if it becomes a problem. He might not like it but I think he'll be happy with a cure either way."

"Thank you, Shepard."

He gave the salarian a lopsided smirk. "Don't thank me yet. If Wrex kicks my ass he'll be coming for you next."

Mordin shook his head rapidly. "No. Providing appreciation for opportunity. Mission to stop Collectors provided time to consider life, many mistakes. Made me face actions in working on genophage. Stopped me from killing Maelon."

Shepard grimaced. Remembered looking through the scope of his rifle, exhaling slowly, and firing. Saw the rogue scientist collapse in the dust of Tuchanka's surface in his mind's eye. It had at least been over in an instant. Not the agony of a slow death by tumors and sickness that so many krogan females had suffered under his care.

"I shot him," he said in a sudden moment of honesty. "After the rest of you had already boarded the tomkah... I know I stopped you but I couldn't stop thinking of what he'd done. And the fact that despite how convinced he was that the genophage was wrong he didn't seem to care at all for the krogan that had died in his experiments. I just knew that if I let him go he'd do it again."

"Knew," Mordin said simply.

"How?"

"Rifle had been fired within last ten minutes of boarding transport. Approximate time to reach roof corresponded with foot speed of salarian male and maximum distance traveled. Checked STG records to be sure. Maelon listed as 'assumed deceased'."

Shepard looked at him, nonplussed.

"You never said anything."

"Didn't need to. Respected you for making hard decision, prevented me from making one in anger. Your decision made with logic. Consideration of consequences. Same result, different reason. Better in the end."

"You always surprise me, Mordin," he said, chuckling ruefully. "You know... Tuchanka is going to be a mess. No matter what you do for the krogan a lot of them are going to hate you just for being salarian. And I know the place isn't full of fond memories. Someone else could do this."

"No. Know Maelon's research too well. Best available."

Mordin was right in that he was the best available. It was a simple statement of fact, not hubris. In all his years Shepard didn't think he had ever met a single person with a mind like the salarian and he had known his fair share of geniuses. Miranda had been genetically bred for both her physical abilities and a keen mind, Liara was a sharp as any academic or intelligence agent, and despite giving credit to the quarian race as a whole Tali could understand theories of physics and engineering that looked like so much gibberish to him. But the good Doctor Solus tackled problems with the energy of a man possessed and with a mind that made leaps of logic that were difficult to follow... but were almost always correct. He could only imagine what Mordin could have done in all the years he spent working on the genophage. Or what other secrets of the universe he could unlock if they could just win this damn war.

"No personal stake in this, then?"

The doctor sighed, giving the Spectre a small, tired smirk. In that moment he saw all of Mordin's years weighing heavily upon the man's thin shoulders, the tightness around his mouth and eyes and lines that weren't just from old scars. And an endless amount of sadness in his large, dark eyes that were briefly unguarded. For a second Shepard felt a kinship with Mordin greater than any that had passed before.

"Getting old, Shepard. Not many years left. But still best candidate for project," the doctor assured him quietly. "Few salarian scientists interested in genophage. None with my expertise. Had to be me."

Shepard returned the smile. "Someone else might have gotten it wrong?"

"Possibly. Stakes too high for inexperience. No time for the cautious approach. But not about them. My work. My job to put it right."

"We will," he promised. "It's gone on too long and it'll be your work that finally ends it."

The salarian nodded thoughtfully. "Like to think so."

"What then? Could I convince you to stick around? I know we don't have the same old lab but I'm sure we could find a reasonable substitute. I could really use some old friends to help win this war."

"Of course, Shepard. At least until Reapers defeated," Mordin said, his tone implying that such an event was the only logical outcome. "Then don't know. Have contributed much to galaxy. Work on genophage. Cure genophage. Study on Collectors. Many papers, many students. Decisions. Mistakes. Might retire somewhere warm. Sit on beach. Look at ocean. Collect seashells."

The image of Mordin wearing a pair of human style swim trunks walking along a beach picking up seashells and dropping them into a small basket was enough to trick a genuine smile onto the Spectre's face, the first in days. He could only shake his head.

"It'll be good to have you back for awhile at least. But retiring on a beach? You'd go crazy inside an hour."

Mordin shrugged, the corners of his lips quirking upwards before turning back to his work. "Might run tests on seashells."

Leaving the salarian to his task Shepard left the medbay and took the elevator back to the command deck. His good mood lasted until he reached the war room and accepted the transmission, a pair of holographic figures coalescing into view. Their grim expressions drove out those small hints of light that his exchange with Mordin had brought like wind dispersing a light fog.

"Admiral Hackett. Primarch Victus. I wasn't expecting this. We're still an hour out from Tuchanka."

The two men exchanged looks, Hackett nodding at the turian in a clear indication to proceed.

"We're aware, Shepard. I have been in contact with Admiral Hackett regarding tactics and possible uses for our combined fleets. If we're to have an alliance then we had best learn how to work together."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence in assuming my success but why contact me now?"

Victus' mandibles worked up and down slightly, the plates of his face tightening. It was an expression he'd seen from Garrus whenever the sniper had been trying to say something but was having trouble forcing it out. It was an expression that almost always meant bad news.

"There's been a development on Tuchanka. The Primarch originally wished to keep this confidential to prevent any possible incidents but circumstances have forced his hand," Hackett supplied. "I convinced him that if we were going to fight this war together we have to do more than work out tactics. We have to trust one another."

"Which is what I am doing now. What you are about to hear is one of the Hierarchy's best kept secrets," Victus said, seemingly fighting the urge to pace.

He merely waited, letting the Primarch continue.

"When we deployed the genophage and drove the krogan back to Tuchanka at the end of the Krogan Rebellions the Hierarchy wasn't convinced that the genophage would be enough. Back then we had just begun to see its devastating effects. So we took other measures. Before pulling out our occupation forces we planted bombs. Massively powerful and buried underground... each one would explode with the force of a cruiser's engines going critical."

"My god..." Shepard muttered. "One of those going off would be like a meteor impact. The explosion would wipe out everything in a hundred miles, not to mention the shockwave from the blast."

"Simple, brutal, effective," Hackett said, without venom. "The turian way."

Victus nodded. "Very true. We never had cause to use them. And after a time they were forgotten by everyone except the highest members of our government. We couldn't remove them without the krogan questioning our actions, so it was decided to simply ignore them."

"Dammit," Shepard sighed, leaning against the railing. "Let me guess: this secret wasn't quite as well kept as you thought and someone else knows about them?"

"It would seem so. I don't know how. A unit was sent to secure the only one that still showed as active... we lost contact with them four hours ago," the turian said with a ragged sigh, talons curling and uncurling at his side. A sign of pure agitation. Something more than just a mission gone wrong.

"What else?" he asked and was rewarded with the faint twitch of the Primarch's talons.

_Spending all that time around Garrus apparently was good for learning turian body language at least._

"Might as well tell him the rest, Victus. I've known him long enough to know he won't let it go."

"Very well. The leader of the company sent to disable the bomb was my son. Tarquin Victus. I needed someone I could trust completely for such a sensitive mission."

Curses rattled around in his head, unvoiced. The way he had said it made it sound almost human, justifying the decision. Turians barely understood the concept of nepotism. Not to say it was completely unheard of it but it was surprisingly limited. Everything was about the unit and personal ability in their strange imperialistic meritocracy. Which meant that if Victus needed to justify his choice of his own son for the mission he was probably too green to have been saddled with such a task.

"I don't need to tell you what would happen if that bomb went off, Shepard. Any alliance with the krogan will be fragile enough even with the genophage cure," the human admiral said.

"I know," he responded flatly.

"I wouldn't ask this if there was another way, Commander."

"A thousand years of history is trying to kill this alliance before it's even born. My only hope is there aren't any more landmines just waiting out there for us to discover."

The turian's sigh was a heavy one. "As do I."

* * *

><p>Kasumi had very mixed feelings about Tuchanka. Already it was a harsh, scorching planet filled with deadly inhabitants from the krogan to even some of the local plant life. It had also been where she had gotten her first real taste of what she had gotten herself into by taking Cerberus' offer to join Shepard's crew. Her career had been based around the adrenaline rush of not being caught, not the more visceral jolt of pitched combat. But she'd adapted, learned to work as part of the team. But seeing what Maelon had done to the krogan females on Tuchanka and the raw brutality of combat against Clan Weyrloc... it had opened her eyes to exactly what it was Spectre's did. Why they existed. And why they absolutely needed to be people like Shepard. Even now her stomach turned remembering some of things they'd seen.<p>

At the same time it had been during that time that she really felt like she had earned her place among the tightly bonded members of Shepard's circle. The thief had seen horrible things, Shepard had asked if she could deal with it... and when she had said yes, he had simply accepted it. Trusted her. Two years earlier she would never have believed it, but a great deal could change in a few short years. Keiji had been killed, Shepard had recruited her, and for the first time since she had left Earth behind she found herself with a group of people that she didn't feel the need to hide from, deceive or otherwise mislead.

She had once told Shepard that his own crew had been _nakama_. It roughly translated as 'friend' or 'colleague'. But over the years in many bits of Japan's popular culture it had come to have a more significant meaning, the connotation of someone or a group of people who were family without actually being related. Before their fateful mission had ended Kasumi had found herself as part of that group without even trying. She had been Tali's confidant, Garrus' co-conspirator, and trusted friend of none other than the famous, or infamous depending on your leanings, Commander Shepard.

_If you could see me now, Keiji_, she thought, looking out the window of the shuttle as the burned through Tuchanka's atmosphere. _A turian ex-cop, a quarian girl, and a Spectre for friends? The universe is a truly strange place._

She heard Garrus speak, his flanged voice a mix of skepticism and hope.

"We're totally sure this is going to work?"

"Yes," Mordin replied. "All tests resulted in successful dispersal and counteraction of genophage. Krogan will be cured."

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, doc," the turian continued. "But you did just cook this up in two days on the Citadel. I know it's you we're talking about here but most people don't consider two days long enough for a really good side of smoked meat. Much less a cure for the genophage."

"Had Maelon's data for many months. Did not make mistake. Can manage the science. Will leave the shooting of things and bravado to you."

"Oh, so mean... you know how to cut me down to size, Mordin."

Kasumi laughed quietly to herself. That was Garrus, always poking and testing. Ferreting out weaknesses and quirks. Among friends it was good natured and teasing, always said in sarcastic tone or with what she was beginning to realize was the turian version of a smirk. She had only seen him turn that attention to detail towards someone he didn't like once and it had been enough to tell her that once upon a time Garrus Vakarian had been a very good cop.

She turned her attention from the banter when Shepard approached, sitting down on the bench beside her in the crowded shuttle.

"So what's the plan, Shep?"

"We'll be leaving Mordin with Eve and Wrex at the Urdnot compound. The Reapers haven't arrived on Tuchanka in force but they're here and making their presence known. Wrex will need time to rally the clans," he explained. "I'm having EDI and her new body stay with them as well for protection. She can detect threats the others can't and can maintain a direct link with me in case anything goes wrong."

"What about the rest of us? Garrus, me, Liara, Vega? Even Prothy the prothean?"

He arched an eyebrow "Prothy the prothean?"

"Joker started it. Not me. Definitely not me. I don't think he's fond of the nickname."

"Really? Amazing," Shepard responded dryly. "To answer your question we've got one more mission before we can finally administer Mordin's cure. A group of turian soldiers went quiet, the area where they were last seen is getting overrun by Reaper ground forces."

The thief wrinkled her nose. "Not good."

"Considering they're also probably sitting on an enormous bomb? Yea, you could say that."

"Even if they're in a bad situation they won't give up that objective, Shepard," Garrus broke in, apparently having finished needling their resident scientist. "The old saying about never seeing a turian's back unless he's dead isn't just hyperbole. We're very fond of our heroic last stands."

A smile ghosted across the Spectre's face when he looked up at Garrus. "That what you were doing on Omega? If I'd known you were set on that sort of thing I could have waited."

"No. Nothing heroic about that, just bloody," Garrus responded, his own smile tight. "At least I didn't try to swim in space just to prove that Spectres were immune to the laws of physics too."

Shepard barked out harsh laugh. "Touche. I'd say I did prove the point, but technically I died so I'm not sure if it counts."

"You lose points for form, but I think you still get credit."

"Thanks, Vakarian. Glad to know you'll have my back when the 'Book of Galactic Records' people come around."

The turian made a small, mocking bow. "Consider it my way of thanking you for getting me shot in the face with a rocket."

"You got yourself shot in the face with a rocket. I just told you to learn to duck better."

It was more than a little strange listening to the two of them taking shots back and forth about what amounted to the most traumatic experiences of their lives. Kasumi instantly knew that if a stranger in a bar walked up to one of them and made the same sort of joke that the other would have dropped the offending party where they stood without a moment's hesitation. Between the two of them, though, it was all a joke in the comedy of their lives. They laughed because if they didn't they might cry. And the thief was relatively certain nobody got to see Commander Shepard cry and she wasn't entirely sure if Garrus was even physically capable.

"Daydreaming on us, Sneaky?" Garrus asked, interrupting her train of thought.

"Sneaky?"

The turian shrugged. "Vega has taken to calling me 'Scars'. Figure I'd try my hand at this nickname thing too."

"Hmm... but 'Sneaky'? Really? I expected more out of you, Garrus."

Shepard leaned back against the bench, crossing his arms. "She's got a point there."

"You started this in the first place. At least 'Scars' sounds appropriately manly."

Doing her best to produce a look of pure innocent from beneath her hood Kasumi smiled. "What, 'Gare' isn't manly? How about 'Garry'? Just imagine the look on people's faces when you're introduced as 'Garry the turian'."

"You're enjoying this far too much."

"No, enjoying it far too much would be mentioning a message from Dr. Michel on the Citadel calling you... what was it?"

Garrus' mandibles flexed wordlessly and his bright blue eyes widened. Finally he managed to sputter out part of a sentence.

"How... but... don't you dare..."

"Oh yes," she said silkily, cocking her head and grinning. "I think it was 'Garebear'."

"Whoa... did I just hear what I think I heard?" Vega's voice interrupted from behind them.

The ensuing round of amused comments and ribbing was unrelenting. Vega of course had a long series of questions about turians and 'human fetishists', which inspired Mordin to go on a very long, painfully detailed explanation of exactly that. This of course resulted in more smart assed comments and denials from Garrus, along with cries to stop Mordin's information flood as it became even more detailed. She definitely learned a few things. Even Cortez offered a few choice comments from the cockpit. She could see the look of agitation shifting across the turian's face plates but they faded slightly when he noticed Shepard getting in on the action occasionally.

Of course Kasumi was also highly amused to note that despite turian physiology Garrus managed to give her a withering glare and mouth the words 'I hate you' in perfect English when no one else was looking.

* * *

><p>"By the goddess..."<p>

"Something like that. Welcome to hell, Liara," Shepard said, jumping the last foot to the ground from the shuttle.

Night had fallen on Tuchanka. While it provided relief from the scorching sun it only made the scene before them reminiscent of the underworld in any number of mythologies. Long ago the area in which they stood had been a krogan city built of heavy stone within a valley that offered protection from hostile world. Then the wars that had ravaged Tuchanka's surface had reduced it to haphazard rubble. Now it was littered with wreckage, much of it still burning. Fires cast long shadows through the ruins, the flickering flames making them dance across the massive stones.

"They never stood a chance. Why the hell were they even here? These ruins offer no room to maneuver," Garrus said, seemingly speaking to himself more than anything. "When the Reapers caught them it would have been like shooting varren in a cage."

Vega gave him a sidelong look. "Eezo readings... definitely enough for at least one heavy transport to have gone down here, Commander. The turians said two total transports?"

"Victus' mission briefing that he forward to me said they dropped from a cruiser on the other side of the system. Transports were equipped with stealth tech similar to the old Normandy," he grimaced.

The expression was shared throughout the squad. They all knew just how well that technology worked against Reaper technology, him most of all. The newest Normandy and the stealth frigates the Alliance had built in the last few years had been designed with upgraded systems to eliminate trace emissions but the older turian transports hadn't received the retrofits. With their only real defense compromised they hadn't stood a chance when Reaper forces had detected them in the tight confines of the valley. The burning wreckage that bathed the ruins in its glow proved that.

"Let's move. If the Reapers get their hands on that bomb they won't hesitate to detonate it. Their troops are expendable after all," he said darkly.

He hadn't hit the ground with this many people on team since they had stormed the Collector base. It was a bittersweet memory. They had all made it out in one piece, bloody and broken, but alive. But for all the feeling of accomplishment it had given him the success had been made hollow when the Reapers descended on an unprepared Earth. It felt like he had been throwing stones into a river, ripples washed away in an instant no matter how hard he tried to disrupt the flow. Defeating Saren had cost the galaxy Kaiden and bought them two years. The Collectors had killed nearly twenty good men and women on the Normandy, sent him to die in space and they'd drawn it out for nearly another year. And killing a quarter of a million had only bought them six more brief months. Shepard wondered what much higher the price would be next time... and how little would be gained for it.

They moved into the ruins now, finding the first dead turian leaning against a fallen column with an assault rifle still clutched in his talons. Blue blood, dried almost black, stained his armor and the sand beneath his body while the corpses of numerous husks lay strewn about. Garrus removed his helmet and crouched down, examining the fallen soldier, finally undoing the armored gauntlet on the corpse's hand and pulling it from lifeless fingers. Pulling something from the dead man's wrist he rejoined them.

"Multiple gunshot wounds, expended thermals all around the body. Looks like his lower leg was broken, he probably volunteered to stay behind," Garrus said curtly. "Made them pay for it."

"What did you take off the body?" Liara asked.

The sniper opened his hand to reveal a pair of wide bracelets, each a solid piece of metal that conformed to the curve of a turian forearm in almost a full circle. A small gap at the bottom connected with a flat chain was clearly meant to secure them. Each had writing on it in Palaven's native script but the visual translation program in his armor hadn't caught before Garrus had closed his talons around them once more and tucked them into his own armor.

"Enlistment band. They're like dog tags for human soldiers, every turian has one that you get when you start boot camp at sixteen."

"Why did he have two?"

That was Kasumi, voice quiet, as if she had some inkling of the answer that had already reared its head in his mind. The expression on the turian's' face, mandibles drawn tight and eyes cold, confirmed it. Garrus looked back at the dead man when he answered.

"It means he was married. The other belongs to his wife."

"Damn," Vega said, shaking his head. "At least it means that some of them survived the crash. This guy wouldn't have put up that kind of a fight for nothing."

Javik nodded. "A true statement. A cornered animal fights with ferocity, but one protecting its young or pack is even more deadly. It is an evolutionary imperative."

There was no further conversation after that as the moved through the ruins. Shepard made a gesture over his eye and Garrus nodded, switching to his sniper rifle and dropping to the rear while Shepard and Vega took point. The first group of husks they encountered were moving furtively across a few more fallen soldiers; the husks were apparently making sure the bodies were dead. A single volley of fire ended that particular threat before the creatures had even become aware of their presence. The process from the first fallen soldier was repeated as Shepard watched. Three more bodies. Four more bracelets.

Garrus' cold blue eyes met his, but they didn't discuss it further, instead dealing with practical matters. The turian tapped his omni-tool.

"I got the operational data from one with his omni-tool intact. We should be able to cut through this maze of ruins now. Looks like the Alliance and the Hierarchy have been communicating pretty well, too. Designations for all the new husks we've encountered were already uploaded to their VIs."

"Wonderful. Cannibals. Brutes, that one's simple enough... Marauders?" he muttered, skimming the data.

"Turians. It's what they turn us into when they get a chance," Garrus replied. "They've got barriers and seem to carry rifles similar to what the Collectors used."

Vega muttered something under his breath but he only caught the tail end. "Fuck the Collectors."

The smirk Shepard gave the younger marine held no mirth. "We took care of that with a nice big explosion. It's something at least."

"It was a mercy killing," Javik added darkly. "We should continue on if we hope to find any of these turians alive. The Reapers have not changed tactics since the previous war, they leave only minimal forces behind. All other ground troops are focused on the object."

The Spectre gestured the team forward. "No supply lines to worry about, no civilians to protect... why leave troops behind, I guess. Alright, double time but don't fire unless you're engaged. Hopefully we can catch them by surprise."

Moving through the ruins they found no more dead soldiers and only a few husks. Whatever remained of the turian unit had fallen back rapidly, likely searching for a better position or maybe just pushing forward in the hopes of achieving their objective before they were overwhelmed. Occasionally they ran across the scorched debris from one of the transports blocking the way but thanks to the data Garrus had been able to extract it was easy to bypass any obstructions.

Finally they heard it. The staccato beat of weapons fire echoing against stone. Without evening looking at one another they broke into a run, guns sweeping the area to the front and sides. It didn't take long for the weapons fire to become much more audible. Motioning the team into cover, Shepard edged up to one collapsed pillar and glanced over the side. They had found their missing team or at least what was left of it. Barely more than two dozen turian marines remained if his quick estimate was correct. Two dozen men from a light company of over eighty held their position while five times their number in hostiles slowly crept towards them.

They held their round on a raised platform that was at the center of a wide-open space. Maybe long ago it had been an arena or temple; the area they were desperately using for cover at the top of what amounted to a stocky pyramid looked like it could have been a gathering place in the distant past. Mirrored across the open area was another structure of the same type... and between the two was an enormous chasm and what could only be the bomb they had come for dangling over the hole held up on heavy scaffolding. Looking through his scope Shepard could just see computer terminals set up on the unoccupied ziggurat-like structure. Clearly someone had been busy here extracting the weapon before the turian team had even arrived.

"Not good," he said, answering the question on Garrus' face when he crept back from the edge. "We've got close to a hundred hostiles. Maybe twenty percent of the company left and they're firing sporadically so I can only guess they're running low on ammo. Can you get into their secure comm frequency?"

"I think so. At least some good came out of that damn 'Expert Advisor' title," the sniper replied grimly.

Shepard looked at the others and smiled grimly. "Only ten to one odds today. Kasumi, unfortunately you've got the most dangerous job of all of us. I'm going to give you half of our spare magazines. As soon as we start hitting the Reapers from behind it should draw their attention enough for you to slip past them and deliver our little present to the marines. Get them fully loaded then have them open up. I don't know how tactically minded these new husks are but hopefully they'll have written off the turians as a threat by then. Leave them exposed for a counter attack."

"I take it we will be making a spectacle of ourselves as a forward offensive?" Javik asked dryly.

Vega chuckled. "I call him loco for a reason."

"Pretty much," he replied, only able to offer a shrug. "Garrus, you're on overwatch. I'll count on you to take out the most immediate threats to Javik, Vega, and I. Liara you're going to be up there with him."

Reaching behind him Shepard removed the Viper from its place at his back and handed it to the asari. She frowned at him.

"Shepard, I'm a biotic and I've been in a pitched firefight before. Not to mention that I haven't spent half my life handling a sniper rifle."

"I made sure all of you qualified with every gun on the SR-1. Did you forget all of that already?"

"Of course not," she replied immediately.

"Then you're staying with Garrus. The rifle will be a good back up and I've never heard of the warp technique having a maximum range. If you're that far out you should be able to concentrate purely on your biotics... I need you to be my one asari artillery unit."

_And if this all goes to hell two of my oldest friends are the ones that actually have a chance to escape._

"Sounds like another classic Shepard plan. Vaguely irrational and rather straightforward but just crazy enough to work," Garrus said, fixing him with a stare that almost made it seem like the turian knew what he'd been thinking. "I've got their comms open, patching you in."

He nodded his thanks and keyed the frequency on his omni-tool. "Turian forces, this is Commander Shepard. Do you copy?"

There was a brief moment of silence. Then a burst of static... and finally a voice, strained but not quite panicking yet. "Shepard? The human? This is Lieutenant Tarquin Victus. I... where are you? We're under heavy assault. We need support, I hope you brought back up."

"We're nearby. I'm going to have a specialist break through the enemy lines to bring you supplies and set up a counter attack but I need to know... is the bomb intact?"

"Affirmative from what we can tell but... we can't make it to the control point. There were two Marauders at the terminals when we made it here, snipers took them out but we can't cover the open ground between this position and the next without being cut to pieces. One of my men tried to sneak over on the scaffolding between the two but... they just picked him off."

"Damn. How did this happen?"

The fatigue and the guilt in the other man's voice warred for supremacy. "It's my fault. I chose clever tactics and caution over a frontal assault and my men paid the price. One of the Reaper ships spotted us. There was nowhere to go. Cut the first transport in half, we crash landed the second. I... I tried to... it doesn't matter. There aren't enough of us left. Tell me you brought a fresh company?"

"Not quite. There's six of us."

"S-Six?" the turian stammered over the comm but quickly regained his composure. "Spirits help us all. But we'll hold as long as we can."

"You'll hold until the mission is done, soldier. Do you understand me?" Shepard barked.

The response was immediate. "Yes, sir!"

His gaze flicked between the others before finally stopping on Kasumi. "Ready?"

"Always, Shep."

He saw that her Locust was already in hand, the other holding a small nylon sack full of thermal clips to her stomach tightly. She met his eyes and he saw the fear there, but the determination as well. An understanding that there was a mission to complete. Somewhere along the way Kasumi Goto had stopped being just a thief; he just wondered exactly when the moment had come.

As soon as the thief's form shimmered and disappeared from sight there was a surge of movement. Javik and Vega had both leapt over the edge of the ledge, landing heavily below while Shepard drew his own submachine gun in one hand. The other found a grenade. Flicking the activator, Shepard jumped after the prothean. Already the familiar crack of Garrus' sniper rifle could be heard overhead.

"Look here, you bastards!" he yelled at the nearest pack of husks.

Heads twisted at unnatural angles to fixate on him with balefully glowing eyes. There were half a dozen of the bulbous batarian creatures that the VI now labeled as Cannibals. They began to howl at him, bringing the guns integrated in their arms to bear... only to have the sound become a screech as the grenade he'd thrown detonated at their feet. Javik's particle rifle was hard at work, burning through the barriers of one of the turian husks before slicing right through its chest. Like a wave hitting a cliff the swarm of Reaper abominations turned towards them. A husk leapt over a pillar at Vega, only to be taken out of the air by a blast from the marine's shotgun.

"How do you like me now, puta!"

The surprise of their attack inflicted heavy casualties but these creatures clearly weren't as single minded as the original husks they had encountered. Marauders screeched something that sounded like a horrific combination of the chittering of the geth and a howling varren while the Cannibals actually took cover, pouring fire on their position. Of course as soon as they did the creatures learned why he had wanted Liara so far above when a ball of dark energy slammed into their center. Another burst of energy impacted only seconds later, scattering the Cannibals in the resulting shockwave.

Shepard ducked behind an irregular piece of stone, bullets raking his position with such fury that chips of stone showered down like snow. He activated his comm.

"Garrus! Target the damn Marauders. I'm pretty sure they're actually directing the other husks."

"Already on it, boss." The statement was confirmed by another crack from Garrus' rifle and a squeal of that static language that was abruptly cut off.

Lunging out of cover during the brief lull in fire he sprinted for the next pile of rubble, silently thanking the ancient krogans for building everything so large. Reaching out with his own biotics he grabbed a Cannibal and pushed, slamming it against the nearby pillar before sliding into cover. Opening his omni-tool once more he skimmed through the standard combat modules in the blink of an eye, settling of a circuit overload program that miraculously had still been on the Normandy's database. One of Tali's little creations.

He leaned out of cover and extended his omni-tool at the nearest husk. A burst of energy and scrap code deluged its synthetic parts and Shepard was gratified to see electricity arc from its twitching body to another husk nearby, having a similar effect. Activating his comms once more he sent a transmission to Kasumi and Garrus, the only other members of the team that knew enough to utilize the same tech.

"Overload protocols work on them. There's enough synthetic in there that it hits hard."

"Copy that."

"Got it, Shep. I'm almost in position," Kasumi said, her voice a whisper.

Examining the battle once more he grimaced. Javik and Vega were both crouched behind the same fallen pillar, the marine pumping shotgun rounds into any husks that got close while Javik targeted foes at greater range. Withering return fire kept their heads down for longer and longer stretches, though. Two of the Marauders were firing bursts at the position above, trying to keep Liara and Garrus from bringing down so much fire on them. Shepard leaned around the other side of his cover, squeezing off two quick bursts that took a Cannibal off at the knees. Shepard reached for his belt once more and removed the last grenade.

_Bring more grenades in the future. A lot more._

The explosive sent more husks flying while the bright flashes of weapons fire continued to light up the dark arena. He felt a stream of rounds trace their way up his body, his armor's kinetic barriers flashing to life and shattering just as suddenly. Shepard was forced to practically hurl himself over another chunk of rubble and into cover, hissing in pain when he found where a round had punched through the thinner armor at his side. They were keeping the enemy's attention divided but there were just too damn many of them.

_Come on, Kasumi. Get those soldiers in gear... I'm running out of cover here._

"Shepard." That was Garrus' unmistakable flanged voice growling over the comm for certain. "Come on, Shepard. You're not allowed to die on me on this pathetic excuse for a planet."

"Still here, just got their attention a little too well," he replied, activating the medigel unit on his armor and sighing in relief.

"Good, because we've got more company on the way. Tightband from EDI, the Normandy's sensors picked up movement heading this way. And it's not the krogan."

"Wonderful," Shepard growled, emptying the magazine of his SMG over his head.

"Commander, they've got me and Buggy over here flanked," Vega said over the comm. "Can't get to your position."

"Keep your head down. We've got to give the turians time to get into position!"

He ejected the thermal clip from his weapon and slapped in a fresh one, suddenly wishing sincerely that he'd spent the time for Jack to teach him how to create those biotic shields. Shepard popped up and managed to snap off a shot that took a Marauder in the shoulder but the return fire overloaded his shields again almost instantly. It was then that he heard the scuff of claws on stone, whirling around and dropping to his back to jam his weapon into the chest of a leaping husk and fire. Claws scrabbled for purchase against his armor, leaving furrows, but one more burst caused the thing to finally twitch a final time before falling over dead.

It was in that moment that he heard the wonderful and familiar sound of a Vindicator's triple bark. The sounds of fire redoubled and the arena lit up once more like a violent dance club. Clearly the turians had received Kasumi's supplies and now they had the Reapers caught between them. He came out of cover firing and lashing out with his biotics. The sudden blitzkrieg of fire dissolved what organization the enemy had left and they began to fall like so much wheat to the scythe.

"Move up to secure the other platform, we need to verify that that damn bomb isn't armed," Shepard ordered.

Turian soldiers were pumping rounds into the retreating husks, backing towards the other raised pyramid. At the base of the structure a soldier in red armor waited, his face covered in white paint that matched Primarch Victus'.

"Lieutenant Victus?"

"Sir... I can't believe that worked but thank you. My men..." the young turian looked at the survivors. "They didn't deserve this."

"Owning up to your mistakes is the mark of a leader. And even leaders make mistakes," Shepard said grimly. "Have your men take positions to defend this area. We've got more incoming."

The man uttered a turian curse and starting barking orders. His men, tired and battered, didn't look terribly enthused but only one made any comment... a comment that died on the soldier's plated lips when his eyes came to rest on Shepard, his armor scarred, cracked, and splashed with ichor from the husk he'd killed. Some small part of Shepard wondered what he looked like to the man, standing there in the near darkness looking out at the world through the glowing red slit of his visor.

"Oh no. Shep... Shepard!" Kasumi yelled.

He was up the steps in a matter of seconds.

"What?"

"The bomb. The Reapers armed the damn thing before the turians got here. They didn't have time to set it off but it's old. All this Reaper code has it priming to go off even without the damn command codes being submitted!"

He clenched his fists tightly, flashes of Virmire swimming across his vision before he pushed them aside and tapped his omni-tool. "Cortez! We need immediate evac with support! I've got a platoons worth of Hierarchy troops here too."

"I copy that, Commander. Inbound, ETA three minutes. Five minutes for additional transport for the turians, I've got a krogan on the line that's not happy, but as soon as I said it was on Shepard's orders he complied."

Shepard looked at Kasumi, the question apparently.

"I don't know, but probably not five minutes. The Reapers have the software completely wrecked but if I had to guess we've got three minutes at most."

"Isn't there any other way to disable the damn thing?" Garrus demanded.

"Commander Shepard, we've engaged more Reaper ground forces," a turian soldier said over the general comms and he could already see the flashes of fire.

"There is!" Tarquin said from behind him. "But it'll be on the bomb directly, If all else fails we can remove the detonators."

The turian was already running past him, scrambling up the wall.

"What about your men, Victus?" he demanded.

Pausing for a moment the soldier looked over his shoulder at Shepard, shaking his head. "They died because I tried to be my father instead of thinking the problem through... the exact mistake he wouldn't have made in the first place. My mission was to make sure this bomb never goes off. I'll be the one to complete or die trying. Victory at any cost."

Then he was gone, inching his way across the scaffolding that held up the ancient explosive. Shepard pointed at this team.

"Move! Give the man covering fire!"

He took his rifle back from Liara, crouching and looking through the sights. With the low-light enhancement he was able to pick out the enemy easily, beating out a steady rhythm of shots even as the young turian lieutenant continued to update him over the comm. To his left he could hear Javik barking orders at surviving marines, none of them daring to question him.

"I made it to the bomb... spirits, what a mess."

Shepard ground his teeth. "Kasumi?"

"Less than two minutes," she replied.

Another round, this one took a Marauder right under its chin, sending it falling backwards. The Spectre slammed another magazine home and brought the rifle up once more. One of the turians must have been saving a grenade for a last ditch effort as a fireball engulfed a group of husks charging their right flank. Victus' son spoke again.

"The controls are fried. The only way to stop this thing is to remove the damn detonator itself. Without them you could shoot the thing and it wouldn't explode."

Vega had dropped his shotgun and now had a turian's Vindicator tucked into his shoulder, laying down precise three round bursts. Further down the line Liara was dragging a wounded soldier behind their scant cover, sending a warp tearing through an approaching Cannibal. He squeezed the trigger again, putting a round through its head as it staggered. Around him shields flickered, flashed brightly, and died.

"Damn... damn damn!"

"What is it Tarquin?" he asked, trying to sound calm even as Kasumi held up a single finger in his peripheral vision.

"The release panel for the last detonator is fused shut. A thousand years..." the young turian's voice became distant. "Only fitting. After all we put it here to kill them."

"What are you doing?"

"Releasing the clamp mechanisms."

Shepard spun his rifle around, looking at the pit below that the Reapers had carved the bomb out of , not seeing the bottom even with the enhanced vision on his scope. He quickly tapped his comm.

"Dammit, there has to be another way!"

"There isn't, Commander. Tell my father... tell him I tried."

The Spectre saw the man through his scope. Watched him yanking the panel off the side of the bomb, throwing it away even as he dangled there. And then he yanked, the control rod sailing out and away, falling into the chasm. There was the sound of metal groaning and the loud snap as it gave way. The shell fell from around the bomb's core, taking the detonators, and young Tarquin Victus, with it into the depths below. An explosion made the ground shudder but it was merely the charges built into the housing going off, a small gout of flame shooting up.

Less than a minute later Cortez was there, flanked by a pair of gunships that made short work of the Reaper reinforcements. The surviving turian soldiers giving them exhausted but grateful nods as they filed into the transport, eyes hollow. His team was aboard their own transport a few minutes later, back to the Normandy for medical attention, each carrying a small collection of minor wounds. As Tuchanka pulled away Shepard could only see the lieutenant's face and the echo of his words.

Victory at any cost.


	11. Chapter 10: The Price

Chapter 10: The Price

_"To set out on any holy purpose and to die along the way is to succeed."_

_- Hindu saying_

Shepard stared at the console in front of him for a long time. The steadily blinking orange glow of the screen was hypnotic in its own way. Every flash said the same thing: communication waiting, just waiting for a single button press to connect them across untold light-years. That simple technology allowed for a galaxy spanning civilization to exist and, in that moment, Shepard hated it, not really for it's purpose but because it reminded him of his own weakness. The same light had been flashing for five minutes but he hadn't been able to hit the button to pick it up.

Finally EDI's voice snapped him out of his haze.

"Shepard?"

He caught the subtle modulations in her synthetic tone, emotions like concern and kindness that she claimed not to have. Positive feedback loops, she'd called them. It seemed even the most advanced AI in the galaxy was capable of small self-delusions when necessary. Maybe that was what it meant to truly be alive.

"I know. Activate it, EDI," he said quietly.

The hologram materialized in front of him in the usual brief shower of pixilation before snapping into focus. Primarch Victus was standing with his arms behind his back, clearly trying to conceal the nervous clenching of his hands, but everything about his stance radiated tension. When he met Victus' gaze the Spectre's face was an emotionless mask.

"Commander," the Primarch greeted him tersely.

"Primarch. We completed the mission. The active bomb was defused and is being moved to a secure location where it won't be a danger."

Some of the tension left the other man's shoulders at the words. "Then you may have saved this alliance from being crushed before it even drew its first breath."

He nodded once, his jaw tightening, but didn't look away. "I did what was necessary. We all did. Primarch, your son... didn't make it. By the time we reached the weapon there were only two dozen soldiers left and the Reapers had primed the weapon and begun the activation sequence to detonate the weapon. He gave his life in the final moments of the battle to prevent that from happening."

Shepard could see how the turian stilled, watching as the man processed the information, but he remained silent out of respect. With painstaking slowness Victus' arms came from behind his back and gripped the railing in front of him, the turian's head dropping. Faintly through the comm Shepard could hear a low keen that ended as soon as it began. When the man looked up again his face was as tight as his voice, mandibles tucked against the sides of his face unmoving.

"I am sure I am not the first father to have lost a son to this war, nor will I be the last. I had already received an update on the mission but there were no specifics. Eighty percent casualties. Half before they had even reached the ground, ambushed in tight quarters."

"He made the call to try and avoid a direct confrontation," he explained with calm he didn't feel. "When the transports were ambushed within the ruins they had no room to maneuver."

Victus' voice was bitter. "Trying to live up to my legacy."

His mouth was dry but he still spoke, dropping the title as he did so. He wanted to offer the man at least some small solace. "Your son made his own legacy, Victus... I knew him for ten minutes. In those few minutes I saw more in him than I've seen in soldiers I knew for years. He was frightened, but he fought on. He knew that his decision had cost lives, but he owned it. And in the end he completed his mission because he knew that it was more important than any one man's life."

"Thank you... Shepard," the turian responded quietly. "There's no time for mourning now, but thank you all the same. I have lost my son, but at least I know that he died with honor. It's all any turian father can ask for."

_No, you could have asked that I bring you son home alive. _

"My team owes him our lives. I promise you that he won't be forgotten."

Victus merely nodded, any waver in his voice now gone. His hands had left the railing, posture stiff once more. The mask was back on, the one that he knew so very well.

"No, he will not. If you'll excuse me, Commander... I have a war to wage."

The hologram winked out and Shepard let out a breath, sagging against the console. Tarquin Victus hadn't been under his command, not technically. But the young turian had given his life for the mission and for them all. Now all he could think of was the message that still rested in some archive, the one that began with 'It is with great regret...' and ended with Shepard telling two grieving parents that their son wouldn't be coming home again, but that First Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko had died with honor to save the lives of others.

"Honor... what good is honor to the dead?" he asked the empty room.

"I asked Jeff the same question," EDI responded, even though he was fairly certain she could tell the question hadn't be addressed to her. "I was confused after reviewing the records of the previous Normandy, the sacrifices made during your original mission. He told me that it didn't matter to them, but to the people that remembered them. It was one of the few questions that he did not deflect with humor."

"He's right, in a way. We build memorials and give speeches for the living. But by the time this war is over I wonder if anyone is going to want to remember."

"My existence is not limited by a typical organic lifespan. I will remember."

"At least someone will."

EDI's hologram appeared on the console. "There is another communication waiting, Shepard. I attempted to trace it back to its source and inform the caller that the timing was inappropriate but I have been unsuccessful. The security encryption suggestions salarian design, however."

"Salarian?" he muttered, stabbing the key on the console. "Fine, put it through."

A new hologram appeared and Shepard immediately recognized the hooded form of the Salarian Dalatrass who had argued so vehemently against their current course of action. Her smooth face was twisted in the same unpleasant scowl that she had worn when she left the Normandy. There were few people in the galaxy to whom he had less of a desire to speak.

"Dalatrass Linron. Not a social call, I trust?"

The salarian's almond shaped eyes narrowed. "It is not. You have reached Tuchanka and Mordin Solus has developed his cure."

It clearly wasn't a question. Whether she simply felt like stating the facts or if the Dalatrass was attempting to impress him with the breadth of her information he didn't know, but he took the verbal bait.

"And how do you know that, exactly?"

"Former operative Solus was given access to STG research archives while he was formulating his cure. Such actions are always logged. It was not hard to figure out from there..." Linron said dismissively. "A more important question is what you intend to do with it."

"Exactly what it says on the label, dalatrass," he responded curtly. "It's a cure. I intend to cure the krogan with it."

"You're letting the pressures of war and emotions cloud your judgement, Commander. I tried to make you see reason at the summit. We did not uplift the krogan for their diplomacy or arts, we uplifted them to wage war. If you cure the genophage they will breed out of control again and there will be another war!"

The salarian's image flickered as she began to pace, the holographic transmitter clearly having difficulty keeping up with her until she stopped once more and continued. It was always the same condescending tone that said that suggested that she knew more than he did, with the implication always being that only fools wouldn't heed her advice.

"I can already see you want to tout Mordin's genius to me... but the changes his cure will bring to the krogan reproductive cycle will only make them breed ten times as fast as every species in Council space instead of a hundred! It doesn't change krogan brutality. Krogan cruelty. It merely slows their advance by years, maybe decades at most. You cannot be so short sighted that you cannot see this!"

"I can see that I won't condemn a race to extinction because of what they might do."

"Then consider the other consequences of your actions," Linron said icily.

Shepard leaned against the console, fixing the salarian with a glare of his own. "I'm not in the mood to be threatened, Dalatrass."

"I do not offer threats, Spectre. I offer a deal, a compromise. It is the foundation of civilization, a foundation your krogan have never understood. If he has not already then I am certain that Mordin will suggest using the Shroud main hub to disseminate the cure across Tuchanka. We gave it to the krogan as a gift to help shield their ravaged atmosphere from their own self destruction... but it was long ago modified to prevent exactly what Mordin will propose. Being the intelligent man that he is, Mordin will certainly detect this and fix the problem."

"Get to the point."

The salarian held up her palms in exasperation. "I am, Commander! I only ask that you do one simple thing. Do not allow Mordin to repair the damage to the Shroud. The cure will still be disseminated to the planet but the temperature variances sent out will render it ineffective with the krogan none the wiser. Keep your promise to Urdnot Wrex and use the krogan to fight your war. In exchange you gain a powerful ally. Full access to the Salarian Union's fleets. While we might not be a match for the Turian Hierarchy in raw numbers we have been preparing for many years. Would your war not benefit from a dozen fresh dreadnoughts, all with our cutting edge technology? Along with our top scientists... and our information network. The Reapers may not fight a traditional war but their agents can still be predicted and countered."

"You're telling me that if I do this... you're giving me the unequivocal support of the entire Salarian Union?"

"I am," Linron stated clearly, a small smirk on her lips. "We must not defeat the Reapers only to let the krogan destroy us all. So I offer you this deal. Our fleets, our knowledge, our resources. The Salarian Union will join your cause without reservation."

"Mordin will never stand for it. He has dedicated his life now to ending the genophage," he said tiredly.

"Deal with Mordin as you must. But I know you will make the correct decision, Commander. I have offered you much for little and this war is only beginning. A true leader knows when sacrifices must be made."

"Damn you."

But the hologram had already winked out. Dalatrass Linron had made her offer, clearly, as far as she was concerned, further discussion was pointless. It was indeed a simple offer. The krogan would fight for the cause none the wiser if the genophage cure were sabotaged discreetly while the beleaguered forces currently fighting the Reapers would have the might of an almost untouched empire suddenly aiding them. Fresh supplies, ships to shore up damaged fleets. The salarians had nearly twice as many dreadnoughts as the Systems Alliance and every one was outfitted with cutting-edge technology. All for a single moment of betrayal.

Shepard looked at the now empty hologram pad, muttering Tarquin Victus' last words. "Victory at any cost."

* * *

><p>"Shepard!"<p>

"Wrex?"

The shuttle bounced and rocked through the turbulence of Tuchanka's upper atmosphere as Cortez did his best the keep the ship steady from the pilot's seat. Behind them the Normandy's second shuttle was faring little better but managed to follow. After extracting the marines from the bomb site they had been brought back to the Normandy for treatment while waiting for the nearest turian cruiser to arrive. Much to his surprise, when he had arrived in the shuttle bay every unwounded member of the devastated turian company had been geared up and ready to go.

Their reason had been simple. Scores of their brothers and their commanding officer had died on the scorched brown earth of Tuchanka trying to give life to the fragile alliance between the krogan and turians. As far as they were concerned their mission wasn't over. Without countermanding orders from Hierarchy command he didn't have much of an argument to make otherwise, which was why a dozen turian marines were landing with them for the final push on the Shroud facility.

Just as the Dalatrass had predicted, Mordin had commed him and explained his plan to utilize the Shroud to distribute the cure. Using the main hub of the Shroud network he could blanket the entire planet with the cure in a single burst, each smaller tower synthesizing the cure for its own pulse. The only caveat was that components that made up the cure were inherently unstable, not something that he could just stick in a vial and tuck into his pocket. No, he had to use Eve's own blood and tissue to synthesize the final version of the cure on the spot and upload it to the Shroud system before it deteriorated. Which meant that they had to secure that facility.

"The damn Reapers are already at the Hollow! Come out shooting!" the krogan's gravelly voice ordered, momentarily drowned out by the sound of shotgun firing. "The salarian and your pet AI are in what passes for a lab here. Eve's with me in the main chamber."

"Copy that, Wrex. Help is on the way."

There was a rumbling laugh over the comm. "Who said I needed help? I just don't want you to get too far behind in kills."

"Still the same old Wrex," Garrus commented dryly.

The Spectre checked his rifle and gave the thermal magazine a slap to seat it before looking at the assembled team.

"No doubt about it. You all heard Wrex; we're going in hot in five. Liara: you, Javik, and Vega are going to immediately make a push to secure Mordin and EDI. If I know the good doctor he's not going to let anyone get near his research. Garrus and Kasumi, you're with me. Mordin's research is useless without Eve."

"Looks like you're in charge, Doc," Vega said, smirking at the asari.

"Wonderful."

The marine turned his attention to Shepard while loading his own weapon, a hefty shotgun that was more than capable of putting down most of the husks they had encountered with a single shot. Vega gestured with his chin in Shepard's direction.

"Gonna have to take that fancy armor of yours into the shop when we hit the Citadel again, Loco. The girls might think you don't appreciate it otherwise."

Shepard looked down at his armor, the formerly pristine black surface looking far more worn after just a few weeks of use. Long scrapes along his side where the husk had tried to disembowel him the day before made four stark gray lines against the black while nearly a dozen smaller marks showed the bare metal beneath the finish up and down his body. Even the gauntlets showed some wear; the knuckles were almost polished metal from when he had struck the armored skin of various husks. It gave every appearance of having been through a long campaign.

"Don't worry, we'll get it taken care of. I wouldn't worry yourself over it, pretty boy," Kasumi interjected before Shepard could comment, matching the marine's smirk with one of her own. "We don't need Shepard to be fancy to know he appreciates us. He's not superficial like some people we know."

To his credit Vega responded easily, flexing one of his arms and looking at the thief. "All that talk... but you know you like the show whenever you come down to the cargo bay. It's okay, I'm used to it. It's hard being so perfect."

"Jimmy Vega, soldier turned professional model," Garrus chortled.

"Every man's gotta have options, Scars. Some of us are proud we don't look like we tried to get cozy with a wheat thresher."

"What the hell is a wheat thresher? Some kind of bizarre thresher maw?"

"Nah, farming equipment. Round spinning thing that's covered in sharp edges," Vega explained.

The turian shook his head, idly dragging a talon along the network of scars across the right side of his mandible.

"Interesting. Might still have been better than trying to stop a missile with my face. But we all know you're secretly jealous. The ladies love scars."

The pertinent question of 'what ladies?' was headed off by the shuttle shuddering once more and making a sudden dive, causing the occupants to scramble for a handhold. Cortez' strained apologies filtered into the passenger area only to waved off. Ruins passed by outside the fast moving shuttle and moments later the vessel stopped, hovering a few feet off the ground.

"We've touched down, Reaper ground forces are taking shots at anything they can get a bead on. Our turian friends are right behind us," Cortez said over the comm.

Shepard tapped the side of his helmet and nodded. "Understood. Let's move people."

Immediately after the shuttle doors opened a shotgun roared to life, knocking the husk that had been pawing at the side of the ship away into a broken heap. Two more came bounding up the nearby steps only to be dropped in almost the same instant as he and Garrus both brought up their rifles and fired. The Spectre jumped out of the shuttle and quickly scanned the area, pointing at Liara and indicating the passageway to their left and then turning back to the long stairway that clearly led to the center of the Hollow.

"Kasumi, you're on anything that gets past Garrus or me. Eve is the priority. I'd say try to keep Wrex alive too but I think he'd be angry that I even suggested something as simple as Reapers could kill him," Shepard ordered, a grim smirk hidden behind his helmet.

Side by side they advanced down the long staircase, rifles at the ready while Kasumi trailed just behind.

"Time to start up the old counter again, huh?" Garrus asked.

The only response he gave was to squeeze the trigger of his rifle. A husk tumbled backwards with a neat hole its forehead and then it was simple muscle memory after that. Each lighter crack of Shepard's Viper was answered by a more resounding boom from Garrus' larger rifle, the first wave of Cannibals never even getting a chance to open fire. They reached the bottom of the stairs to find chaos as husks scrambled up and down the walls of what looked almost like a huge arena. Many of the creatures were locked in brutal combat with krogan warriors. At the center of it all was a raised platform with Wrex and Eve at the center, both armed with shotguns and firing into the charging husks. He and Garrus exchanged a wordless glance and began to fire once more.

When one of the charging husks dropped directly in front of him Wrex looked up and met Shepard's eyes, his lips curling into a fierce smile. The krogan warlord was wreathed in biotic energy for a brief moment before it surged outward to knock away the next pack of Reaper abominations while Eve reloaded her weapon in a single practiced motion. Another deafening boom from Garrus' rifle and a shot struck a Marauder's head clean from its shoulders. The few husks that made it into range to charge at the pair of snipers were stopped cold when Kasumi's slim form shimmered into existence and riddled them with fire from her Locust.

Any chance the attack had of success ended abruptly when reinforcements arrived from the other side of the circular hall in the form of a dozen turian marines backed by Liara's team. Precision fire rained down on the Reaper forces and combined with the biotic fury of both Liara and Javik, short work was made of the various husks. Moving down a circular staircase that led to the dusty floor of the hall Shepard rejoined the rest of his team, noting that EDI was gripping a pistol tightly in the hands of her new synthetic body.

"So what's the verdict, EDI? Acceptable performance?" he asked.

"Yes, Shepard. This body is more than capable of direct electronic warfare and limited fire support."

Noting an odd tone in the AI's voice he pressed forward. "But?"

"It is not important. I am merely adapting to the experience of direct contact with an enemy in the way an organic or geth platform would. The Normandy itself is a much different experience. I find this method to be significantly more... messy."

"It doesn't get any cleaner from here," Garrus said.

She looked towards the turian, expressionless. "This has become abundantly clear."

They moved towards the center of the room but Shepard waved the others off, wanting his team to stay near the turian squad. The krogan were already riled, the last thing they needed was an altercation between the marines and the krogan soldiers, something that hopefully wouldn't occur with his team acting as a buffer. Only Mordin accompanied him to meet Wrex at the base of the dais while Eve had retired into the shelter provided by the large upright statue at the center of the raised area. Wrex, of course, was grinning wildly.

"They'll sing battle-songs about this someday... Reaper blood has finally soaked our soil. Just like the old days, Shepard, you and the turian shoot things in the head and I tear'em apart."

He accepted the wrist clasp, returning the krogan leader's smile with a vicious one of his own.

"In the old days it was just geth and mercs getting in our way."

"Guess they couldn't keep up, that's why the Reapers finally had to try it for themselves. And just so you don't forget the old days... I found something for you," Wrex said. "It was in the locker of crap your Alliance shipped to me off the Normandy when I left, must have gotten stuck in there. At least it didn't blow up."

The krogan reached behind him and produced a pistol, tossing it into Shepard's hands. His fingers slipped around it instantly, settling into the grip like a lover's caress. It was a bulky handgun, all slate gray and menacing in the way most of the models made in the past few years weren't. An original model Carnifex with half a dozen notches in the grip. One for each krogan he'd killed during the hunt for Saren.

"Son of a bitch..."

Wrex laughed. "Ha! I know. Forgot all about it when you brought the pup here for his Rite. Kept telling you that advertising was complete shit. Just had to prove me wrong."

"It worked, didn't it?" he asked, turning the weapon over in his hand, thumb rubbing down each notch before checked the weapon over. It was his original gun without a doubt, but Wrex hadn't just left it to collect dust in a locker somewhere. A high efficiency thermal magazine was loaded into the gun and it had been brought up to the very bleeding edge of current specifications. "What did you do to it, though?"

"Contacted Anderson when you were sitting on your ass on Earth. Told him I wanted to send it to you but apparently they don't let prisoners have big, shiny guns. I managed to get him to send the parts to upgrade it, though I think he just wanted the specs on what I was doing to it. Got a message just before the Reapers hit Earth that some of your people had already made a new model based on it. Called it the Paladin, whatever the hell that is."

"Appropriate term. Human translation: holy warrior, knight," Mordin interjected. "Fitting for battle against Reapers."

At this the krogan's expression turned sour.

"Battle is the word, salarian. The Reapers aren't messing around. My scouts have reported that there's a damned Reaper parked at the base of the Shroud."

Mordin nodded in agreement, his omni-tool open to display a small graphic of the Shroud's tower and a crab-like walker stalking the dunes in front of it.

"New type of Reaper, destroyer class. Still dangerous but roughly equivalent to modern cruiser. Likely used in smaller scale ground pacification when larger Reapers inefficient. Appears to be trying to use Shroud to damage atmosphere."

"This day just keeps getting better," Shepard sighed.

"Indeed. Reaper must be neutralized to successfully deploy cure, recommend multi-vectored attack. Orbital bombardment too risky but turian cruiser can provide fighter support," Mordin suggested, then glanced up at the dais where Eve sat in shadow, cleaning her weapon it seemed. "Female also doing well, monitor showed excellent vital signs and only slight increase in blood pressure during combat. Significant increase in endorphins."

While they spoke krogan had begun to gather, many covered in blood and all visibly armed. They were filling the many levels that ringed what Shepard was starting to think of as the amphitheatre of the Hollows. Even speaking quietly their voices echoed in the chamber. Clearly the place had been designed to be used to address hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Across the way he saw more krogan entering the rooms lowest levels, most of them appearing organized into clan groupings or even mercenary units. The red of the Blood Pack was hard to ignore. He could only assume that these were the more important members of krogan society. It seemed that the entire krogan race in some form was to be represented here today. A historical day.

The expression on his face became a grimace. It was on his shoulders as to just what history would tell about the battle for Tuchanka. It would be the day that the krogan people were finally freed of the terrible plague that had been slowly killing them for a thousand years, or the day that one man betrayed a race to save the galaxy, a final epitaph left for the krogan species on their devastated world.

"Of course she's fine. She's a fighter. Cunning, strong, brutal..." the old battlemaster trailed off for a moment, following Mordin's gaze to Eve. His red eyes glittered and his nostrils flared. "She could be the krogan's first great warrior queen in a thousand years. Shiagur would pale in comparison."

He recognized what he saw in Wrex's eyes. Shepard's fists tightened at his sides, eyes closing for a moment as he made his decision. The sound of a commotion snapped his eyes open once more and Shepard turned to face a contingent of krogan that were advancing steadily on their position. For a brief moment he was confused by the almost identical set of the leader's face to the krogan that was standing next to him. Wrex recognized his confusion and grunted.

"Urdnot Wreav... my brother. We shared the same mother and nothing else."

"What is this, Wrex? You bring salarians onto our holy grounds? And now turians?" Wreav spat and the krogans behind him nodded, many of them wearing the armor of the Blood Pack. "Next you'll dig the rachni out of their graves and bring them here too! Our... illustrious leader would destroy every tradition we have left!"

Wrex snarled. "They're called allies, 'brother'. Allies that just helped our people."

"Maybe you've forgotten what it means to be a true krogan! We flay our enemies alive and drown them in their own blood," the other krogan snapped back, voicing dripping with disdain and fixing his gaze on Mordin. "We don't invite them into our home."

Each word echoed perfectly, carrying the sound to every ear that listened. Around the great room rumblings arose, inarticulate growls of support and opposition quickly gaining volume until it sounded like an avalanche of stone bearing down on their heads. Shepard looked up and spoke loud enough to be heard over the angry krogan.

"This salarian came here to help your people and cure the genophage! But only if you can look past your stubborn prejudice first!"

"The salarians infected us with the genophage in the first place!" Wreav yelled, raising his arms. "Why would we trust one of them?"

The crack of bone on bone carried over of the rumbles and Wreav staggered back from Wrex's headbutt.

"Because I do! And so will you, Wreav. Did you forget that I am the leader of Clan Urdnot?"

"Maybe it's time for that to change!"

Hands went for guns and teeth were bared, Wreav himself already had his gnarled fingers wrapped around a shotgun pointed in Wrex's direction. He could see everything going bad very quickly when a new voice rang out and silenced them all. Much to the surprise of virtually every krogan assembled Eve stepped out of the shadows of the pillar, fixing Wreav with a glare that would have melted the flesh right off any mere human.

"Enough!"

As one the krogan seemed to turn to face her, the authority in her voice and the fact that a female was addressing them seemed to have captured their attention completely. Standing at the top of the platform, Eve was a striking figure veiled in her deep blue robes in her garb that Shepard could only assume was the traditional dress of krogan females. Eve continued to speak as she looked around the room at the assembled warriors.

"We can stay here and let old wounds fester as krogan have always done. Squabble amongst ourselves until there is no krogan people left to save... and those that remain can die at the hands of the Reapers!"

Her stare focused back on Wreav, tone acidic.

"We stand now at the moment of truth! For thousands of years we fought this brutal world. When the rachni threatened to overwhelm the galaxy and the salarians took us to the stars we fought for the promise of a future. And when the genophage took from us our children we still fought to survive! Now we have a choice. We can continue until our old ways kill us all... or we can fight the enemy that the krogan were born to destroy and win a new future for our children!"

Eve slammed her fist into the stone pillar hard enough that sand and dust shook from it.

"I for one choose to fight! You all speak of tradition. In the ancient days a warlord would ask for the allegiance of his followers. Warriors that would form their krantt and kill for their cause! I ask you now, who will stand with me and fight for our future?"

A new rumble swept through the chamber like a wave but Shepard couldn't make out any single voice. Wrex stepped forward first without hesitation, climbing the steps to stand beside Eve. He slammed a fist into his chest and glowered at the assembled krogan.

"I stand as Urdnot Wrex, Leader of Clan Urdnot. And I will fight!"

In the near silence that followed Shepard stepped forward. Looking up at the krogan female and removing his helmet he mimicked Wrex's speech.

"I stand as John Shepard, Commander of the Normandy. And I will fight."

To his surprise Mordin stepped forward as well. The salarian's voice was clear and his speech amazingly unrushed, sounding almost surreal after hearing his clipped and rapid fire dialogue for so long. Leaving Shepard at the base of the dais he moved up to stand beside Eve.

"I stand as Mordin Solus. Former member of the salarian Special Tasks Group. I will fight."

Wreav snarled once more. "A delusional old warrior, a human, and a salarian? A pathetic krantt! This is what you dream of for our people, female? Are there no others that would follow your delusions?"

"I will," Liara said loudly, stepping forward, her form wreathed in dark energy. "I stand as Liara T'Soni. And I will fight for your future even if you will not."

The ominous sound of a heavy rifle being racked cut off any response from Wreav.

"And so will I."

Garrus gave Shepard an amused twitch of his mandibles before stalking up the steps to stand just beneath Eve with one leg propped on the step above, turning back to sweep his cold blue gaze across the krogan below. He hefted the massive rifle and rested it on his shoulder, speaking directly down at Wreav and the Blood Pack mercenaries behind him.

"I stand as Garrus Vakarian. The Archangel of Omega. And I will fight. Ask your mercenary friends what happens when I do."

Wreav's nostrils were flaring now in anger as his head cast side to side, hearing the rumbles of dissent from the ranks of the krogan around him. Sneering up at the assembled group, though, he apparently wasn't willing to accept defeat yet even with the implied threat standing before him.

"Your collection of aliens is impressive, female. What will you do when I challenge you? Send your alien krantt to kill me instead of true krogan? If only you had krogan that would follow you beyond our besotted leader!"

"She does!"

So focused on Eve the angry krogan didn't even see the massive form pushing through the crowd until it was too late. The sound of the head butt echoed through the sudden silence in the room and Wreav staggered backwards just as he had when Wrex had struck him. Pale blue eyes, so rare for krogan, looked at Wreav without the slightest hint of fear.

"I stand as Urdnot Grunt! Child of Okeer and born of the bloodline of a dozen warlords! And I will kill any who stand before the will of Clan Urdnot and my battlemaster!"

The towering krogan moved to take his place not at the side of Wrex and Eve but standing just behind Shepard at the base of the dais, looming over his shoulder like a massive gargoyle. From the uproar all around them the statement was clear. Armored fists were pounding stone walls and chests. Krogan were chanting. Fight, they said. Fight.

Wreav's furious expression was just as clear. Shepard's mouth was set in a grim line as he flicked the safety off the heavy pistol Wrex had given him only moments befire, pointing it at the krogan's head but saying nothing. Behind him Wrex spoke instead and he could hear the steel in the old battlemaster's voice.

"Urdnot Wreav! Your people have spoken! Fight with us as a true krogan or die at the hand of the one that I would call my brother before my own blood!"

Wreav roared in anger and yanked the shotgun in his hands upwards, his answer clear.

Like an old friend the Carnifex responded to the slightest tap of the trigger, its thunderous report filling the chamber as the round caught the krogan directly in the throat and sending him to his knees. Wreav's shotgun fell from his hands as blood poured from his mouth and neck, hands trying to clasp the wound closed even as he made thick gurgling sounds. It was a credit to krogan regeneration that by the time Shepard had taken the few steps to stand over him he could actually make himself understood.

"Human... pathetic," Wreav gurgled, staring up the barrel of the gun. "Never willing... to just... make the kill! Weak..."

Only Wreav could hear him over the sound of the krogan around him yelling.

"That's where you're wrong, Wreav. You're just one more stone on the road to hell."

His pistol rang out five more times and Urdnot Wreav slumped forward dead.

Wrex roared behind him. It was something old and primal and the krogan, thousands of them, responded in kind. A thousand voices so loud even the Reapers must hear them.

* * *

><p>If they ever made a vid of his life Garrus sincerely hoped someone had been recording what had just occurred. There were a few things he was especially proud of in his life, some that he would admit, others that would likely go with him to the grave. Taking down Saren. Killing that slaver Kron Harga on Omega. Not swallowing his own gizzard when Shepard showed up alive again. Leading the team on the Collector base. But calling out an entire army of krogan was definitely moving to the top of the list. Finally that moniker the people of Omega had saddled him with had come in handy.<p>

"You look entirely too satisfied with yourself," Kasumi said, interrupting his musings.

His mandibles flexed. "Not every day I get to act it up like some over muscled vid-star, Kasumi. Let me bask in it for a minute. Where were you anyways? Didn't feel like joining the universe's most bizarre krogan krantt?"

"You know better than that. The spotlight isn't for me. Best, not most famous, remember?"

"But it would have been fun! You could have sat on the steps and wrapped your arm around my leg, looking up at me, just like the covers of those ancient fantasy vids Joker always insists are classics!" Garrus continued, pausing to rub his chin. "Though remembering those you would have needed to have been wearing a lot less clothing..."

"Garrus."

"Hm?"

"You do know I'm capable of hacking your armor's environmental controls?"

"So... that's a no on the gauze and metal bikini?"

"Better question, why are you trying to get me in a bikini?"

Garrus paused, meeting the thief's eyes that shone just beneath her hood and seeing the smirk that played at her lips. For a moment his mandibles flexed back and forth, realizing that he'd walked right into that particular verbal trap with his eyes wide open. Finally he snapped his mouth shut and chuckled.

"Dammit, that just went somewhere horrible and came right back around at me."

With a clearly satisfied look Kasumi leaned back in her seat. "And that will teach you to spar with the master."

"So you're the master now? I didn't get the memo," Garrus said dryly.

It earned him a rude gesture that made him laugh. Settling back in his own seat, trying to ignore the bouncing of the tomkah as the krogan drive seemed to try and hit every piece of rubble between them and the Shroud, he crossed his arms.

"You know, I did some reading up on Earth culture in my downtime. Seems to me that where you come from your people are supposed to be very polite and respectful."

"And last I checked turians are supposed to be hard working and good at toeing the line," Kasumi countered. "When was the last time you did either?"

"Ouch, you have been hanging around Shepard too long. You're getting vicious," he replied, but was grinning. "And I've always said that I'm a bad turian."

"Then I guess I'm just bad at being Japanese, makes us even."

"I suppose it does."

They lapsed into amused silence, turning to look at the other occupants of the transport. Eve and Wrex were speaking with animated hand gestures, while Mordin was engrossed in data from his omni-tool. Knowing the salarian doctor, Garrus was sure that he was quadruple checking his own work. As usual both of their gazes were drawn to Shepard, sitting with the gun Wrex had given him held in one hand and his knife in another. It took him a moment to realize that the man was carving another notch into the weapon's grip.

"I'm not sure if that's normal or creepy," Kasumi whispered.

"Technically, normal. Shepard got that gun when we first started hunting down Saren," he explained. "The Council are cheap bastards so we had to buy our own equipment. Went into a store and he asked for something with stopping power and when the clerk asked him exactly how much stopping power he really needed... well, Shepard pointed at Wrex and said 'In case I want to shoot that guy'."

"Wrex didn't complain?"

"Not at all. He was more offended at the thought of a mere pistol hurting a krogan. After that Shepard made a point of using the damn thing every time we ran into krogan mercs. Which, thanks to Saren's little deal, was far more often than I would have liked."

The thief shook her head. "One day I'm going to trap you somewhere and get the whole story about Saren. I feel like I missed out on a lot. Like I started reading a story at the second chapter."

"It was definitely crazy. Geth, mercenaries... Sovereign. It wasn't an experience I'd trade for anything. But it wasn't easy either. We lost a good man," he said, his harmonics pitching lower as he connected the dots in his head. He continued suddenly. "Maybe it's better that you weren't there."

"Better?" He thought for a moment she actually sounded hurt.

"Not what I meant. It's just..." the turian gestured with his talons, trying to properly formulate his thoughts. As soon as he'd thought of what the team would have been like with Kasumi from the beginning his mind has brought up Virmire. Kaiden had been chosen to deal with the explosive due to being their best tech next to Tali, who had been on Shepard's squad. If Kasumi had been there... she might have been the one with that particular duty. He was saved from continuing his poorly phrased explanation by their comms crackling to life.

"This is turian wing Artimec, our approach vector is locked in and we are ten minutes out."

Every head in the shuttle raised, the simple pronouncement reminding them all of what they were about to walk into. Wrex for his part was still sounding amused, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Turians and krogan fighting together! Never thought I'd see the day."

Eve seemed far more pensive as she looked at the krogan male.

"It is a great achievement... but Wreav will not be the only krogan to object to the break with tradition. His bloody execution will cow them for now but you will have to placate them in the future."

"They'll quiet down when we finally start to expand. The Council wants us to fight another war from them... I think we'll have earned some compensation."

Shepard had slipped his knife back into its sheath and nodded at the battlemaster. "A new homeworld for the krogan colonize doesn't seem like much to ask."

"Maybe more than one," Wrex said with a toothy grin. "You haven't seen how fast we can pop them out."

"Wrex!" the female admonished.

This of course only inspired further grunting laughter from Wrex. It was certainly an odd sight. Garrus had never expected to even see a krogan female, much less one that sounded vaguely embarrassed by the crude commentary. During the entire exchange Mordin had been watching thoughtfully, finally interjecting during the lull in conversation.

"Already provided you with data showing that krogan... virility would not completely return to pre-genophage levels. Still considerable, though," the doctor added. "Would advise caution. Society requires time to change. Long held values difficult to uproot, without strong leadership krogan could become threat again. Resulting conflict... problematic."

Wrex shook his massive head. "Don't worry, salarian. We're done with the old ways, no more pissing in the wind waiting to die. The smart ones will come to my side. Any that decide they want to reenact the Rebellions? I'll deal with them myself."

"Presence of strong female also provides calming influence."

"I suppose she helps. I'm the one who will keep them in line, though."

"Males. You would still be butting heads in the Hollows if I had left it up to you," Eve stated dryly.

Garrus' mandibles twitched in amusement as he caught Mordin's quiet comment, far too low for anyone other than he and Kasumi to hear.

"Both headstrong. Very good match. Will be interesting to see offspring."

The line of tomkahs rolled through Tuchanka's devastated terrain, following what had must have been a major highway in ancient times. He'd been amazed to see them all when Wrex had led them to his own transport. The sheer amount of the rugged vehicles would have done a turian armored company proud... and considering they were going to fight an actual spirits-be-damned Reaper it was likely they would need every one. He looked down at the rifle in his arms and gave what a few would have recognized as a grim smile.

He'd appropriated Shepard's old rifle; that was the truth. And in those six months he had made it his personal project to turn it into the most precision instrument of death that had ever graced hands turian or human. For all Garrus had done trying in vain to prepare the Hierarchy part of him knew it wouldn't be enough, especially when heard that they had locked Shepard away. He had heard the rumors. Court martial, whispers that he'd be turned over to the batarians for 'justice' to prevent war. So he had spent hours at a workbench modifying and calibrating. Because, if the worst came to pass and Shepard weren't there, then at least some part of him would be.

Shepard had reappeared, but Garrus still held onto the rifle. Because whenever he'd tried to talk to his friend in the past few weeks the same fear that Shepard wouldn't be there didn't go away like it should have. When he'd taken the shot at the Brute on Menae and the Spectre had looked up at him the turian had realized what he must have looked like when Shepard found him on Omega. It wasn't a pleasant epiphany.

Suddenly the tomkah shook violent and skidded to a stop, panicked yells filling the comms. Everyone was on their feet, weapons in hand, while Wrex began to bark orders demanding answers. Finally the krogan growled and punched the side of the transport.

"Aw fuck."

"We have a problem, Wrex?" Shepard asked.

"Yea, the big Reaper stomping around woke up Tuchanka's meanest guard varren," the krogan replied. "Kalros just took out our two lead tomkahs."

From the way Shepard's attention immediately fixed on Wrex and his clipped tone it was clear that he recognized the name, whatever it was. His words came out almost as a snarl.

"Kalros is a damn myth."

"She isn't," Eve said, shaking her head. "She is very real and has called these deserts her home for thousands of years."

Kasumi looked between Shepard and the two krogans suspiciously before crossing her arms and sighing.

"Alright, I'll bite. Who is Kalros?"

"Not who, what. Kalros is the mother of all thresher maws," Eve corrected. "She is ancient, a force of nature that came to Tuchanka long ago and claimed it for her own. Before we burned our atmosphere and destroyed our world she was here, and after she still remained."

"I don't like the sound of 'mother of all thesher maws'. I'd rather avoid getting up close and personal," Garrus said.

Wrex grunted. "She just swallowed two tomkahs and didn't even slow down... good call, Vakarian."

Standing ramrod straight Shepard let out a few choice curses that he'd have to ask him about later.

"We can't reach the Shroud with her in the way?"

"Thresher maw continue to grow for entire lifetime. Thousand year lifetime exaggeration? No. Unlikely. Krogan boastfulness only regarding trophies. Kalros still alive. Capable of casual destruction of heavy armored vehicle... possible lifetime indicative of size in excess of one kilometer," Mordin speculated. "If provoked could wipe out even substantial ground force without realistic chance of fatal injury. Thresher maws extremely territorial. Will attempt to destroy anything perceived as encroaching. "

The Spectre's head turned, looking at Mordin as a grim smile came across his lips.

"A kilometer, huh?"

"What are you thinking, Shepard?" the turian asked, not liking that look. "Those fighters are going to be on target soon, without support they don't stand a chance."

"We'll give them support. I've got a plan."

Garrus' mandibles curled upwards slightly in a smile.

"Boss, why is it that you always say 'I've got a plan' the same way a terrorist says 'I've got a bomb?'"

* * *

><p>"This is a terrible, terrible plan!" Garrus yelled.<p>

"No, it's a glorious plan!"

"Nobody asked you, Wrex!"

The krogan's shotgun roared once more, the blast simply making the charging husk cease to exist from the waist up. There seemed to be no end to the things. Above them towered the Reaper, smaller than its brethren like Sovereign and Harbinger, but still a nigh unstoppable colossus to mere mortals such as themselves. Another bone jarring sound like a great horn bellowing from the depths of some hell echoed through the air and it fired its weapon once more, one of the connecting bridges to the main part of the ruins simply disappeared in a blast of heat and force.

"Where did Mordin go?" the turian asked, scanning the area with his sniper rifle.

"Took Eve and Kasumi around the right flank in the tomkah," Shepard answered, appearing beside him to pump a few rounds into another husk. "We've got to get those damn hammers going or eventually their transport will get spotted."

Wrex looked back at them both, that same smirk he'd worn ever since they'd set foot on Tuchanka still plastered on his face. He simply popped the heatsink from his gun and slotted in a fresh one before yanking back the charging handle.

"Go. I'll handle this."

He looked to Shepard, meeting the human's gaze despite their helmets and saw his quick nod.

"We'll get it done, Wrex."

"I know. You're Shepard... one Reaper can't stop you. You've killed them before, remember?" the krogan asked.

"We did have a fleet the last time," Garrus pointed out.

"Nah, the fleet had us."

A rueful laugh came from behind Shepard's helmet. Before they turned to head into the ruins Wrex stopped them with a hand on the smaller man's shoulder. The bloodthirsty grin was gone, replaced by a solemn look that Garrus had rarely seen aboard the SR1.

"Wait. Whatever happens... I want you to know that you have been a champion to the krogan people. A friend to Clan Urdnot. And a brother to me. To every krogan born after this day, the name 'Shepard' will mean 'hero'! Now go... and teach this Reaper what happens when you come to Tuchanka for a fight!"

Shepard returned the wrist clasp, armor hitting armor loud enough to echo off the stones. Behind them they heard the howl of husks and could see forms scrambling towards their position. Without another word Wrex turned towards the approaching husks and charged with a roar. Biotic energy poured off him in waves, the smallest husks simply being knocked aside like toys, others already falling under a torrent of fire.

"I AM URDNOT WREX. AND THIS. IS. MY. PLANET!"

And then they moved, a full run deeper into the ruins where two massive hammers awaited. Shepard had suggested using the tomkah and explosives to lure Kalros to the Shroud. It seemed that the ancient krogan had anticipated their needs so long ago, with two massive versions of the hammers that had been used at Grunt's rite still found within the ruins. Constructs of stone that would summon forth the wrath of Tuchanka given physical form in Kalros.

"Left!" Shepard barked.

His rifle was already moving, the first shot catching a Cannibal in the chest and sending it flying off the raised walkway. The pistol in the Spectre's hands kept tempo, picking husks off as soon as they crawled up the ruined walls. Long turian legs and cybernetically enhanced human strides made quick work of the distance, both of them trying to ignore the Reaper as it strode overhead while simultaneously being very aware of just where it was stepping. Finally they reached the end, skidding to a halt to look down at a huge arena built like an altar with a hammer on each side. And in the middle? The lumbering forms of krogan husks... massive Brutes just waiting for them.

"Here's how it goes. I'll make a run for the right one, lay down covering fire as I go. I'll hit it and toss out a few grenades to keep things interesting while I sprint for the opposite side."

"That's an even worse plan than the last one," the turian said, but was already settling into a prone position. "Don't get yourself killed, Shepard. That's an order."

"Pretty sure you don't outrank me, Vakarian. Even if you are one accident away from being Primarch from what I hear," Shepard replied, reloading his pistol.

Garrus blinked and shook his head. How Shepard had gotten that particular piece of information he'd likely never know, odd that he'd bring it up now.

"I'm invoking best friend privileges. Plus I think you're related to Wrex now in some sort of screwed up, krogan adoption way. I can get him on the line, maybe he can order you."

"Maybe so. You've climbed the ranks, though, Garrus. You're a leader now. Never forget it."

And then he was moving, pistol in one hand and a grenade in the other. Almost as one the Brutes undersized heads swung in his direction. Garrus exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger, the shot sliding perfectly between the armored plates of the first Brute where it's neck met the chest. It roared in pain, staggering as its blood and bile began to gush down its chest. The beast was dead but it would take time for its body to realize it. Shepard was weaving between them like a prize handball forward, though, dodging swipes of their huge claws.

All the while he laid down a steady volley of fire. Sight, inhale, exhale, squeeze, fire. Repeat. Worries about Shepard's mental state, about his family on Palaven, about human customs and weapon upgrades all faded away. This was what he was good at, precise and deadly with a weapon that had been made to destroy monsters. One shot tore out an eye, leaving the target reeling and disoriented. Another struck an arm joint, the gnarled claw falling useless by the beast's side. Others cracked open armored plates to expose vulnerable centers to Shepard's pistol.

The first hammer fell and the ground shook like a mass driver round had struck. And in the distance Garrus almost swore he heard a response, a shudder running through the ground. Then he was back in the zone once more. Shepard was running with everything he had. The barrel of the rifle was beginning to take on a cherry glow but he didn't stop firing. The Spectre rolled under one blow only to be grazed by another, training taking over and making him roll with it. Garrus pumped a round into the Brute's ankle to stagger it, giving Shepard time to get back to his feet.

"Move, Shepard... move," he whispered.

And he did. A blow that should have crushed him was neatly dodged, Shepard actually using the monster's hunched form as a ramp as he pulled himself up and over its hulking form to make a dash for the final hammer. Brutes charged behind but they had lost their momentum, having to pick up speed once more as they gave chase. The opening was more than enough time for the Spectre's long legs to carry him the last hundred yards. He yanked on the controls for their hammer and the stone pillar fell. Another boom shook the earth.

It was at that point that Garrus realized the flaw in this particular plan. The hammers would summon Kalros to garner the Reaper's attention, true, but it wasn't going to do anything about the half dozen Brutes that were doing their best to rend his commander limb from limb. Another grenade caught the leading beast full in the face; Shepard's throw had been true. But it hadn't taken the creature down.

"Run, Garrus! Back to the walkway!" Shepard ordered.

He growled "Like hell, I'm not leaving you behind as a damned snack!"

"Follow the damn order, Vakarian! It was not a fucking request!" Shepard practically snarled, taking him aback. The human was already running himself, taking even the large krogan stairs two at a time as the Brutes began to pick their way up as well.

The turian felt his fringe rising and his mandibles flare with anger of his own. He took a final shot at the nearest abomination, not a fatal one but enough for it to stop and try to protect itself with an armored forearm. A few seconds head start for Shepard before Garrus hissed and turned, sprinting back towards the other end of the long stone bridge. He skidded to a halt at the end, unwilling to flee farther, and took up his shooting position again.

Shepard crested the top of the stairs at a full run, dropping something on the ground behind him as the first Brute appeared behind him. Still running, he threw another of the items at his feet, Garrus finally making the connection just as the explosives triggered. The stone bridge was disintegrating under Shepard's feet even as he ran, the cloud of dust enveloping him from behind. Dropping the rifle, Garrus lunged forward into the billowing cloud.

He could barely see but simply groped on instinct, rewarded with the feeling of a strong grip on his forearm and a sudden weight dragging him forward. Digging his armored boots into the stone Garrus heaved upwards and managed to drag Shepard up and onto the remnants of the bridge. Both of them sagged back against the stone for a moment, panting and covered with fine gray dust. Looking upwards was little comfort, however, with the Reaper still looming ominously. Garrus rolled over and pushed himself to his feet.

"Where is that damned-"

The turian nearly fell once more as everything began to shake and a titanic roar echoed across Tuchanka's desert wastelands. Before their eyes a thresher maw larger than anything Garrus had ever even considered possible burst from the ground and slammed into the Reaper above, the impact as thunderous as any artillery round. A small part of Garrus' brain, the part that held his survival instinct, told him that he should be running. The rest was too much in awe of what he was seeing.

A brilliant ruby lance struck out from the Reaper but only managed to gouge a furrow into the sandy ground as Kalros disappeared beneath the ground once more. The Reaper began to retreat backwards, turning its considerable bulk to and fro to scan for the newfound threat. He glanced to his right to see Shepard watching with the same rapt attention.

"You... uh, okay with this?" he asked, watching the Reaper.

Shepard nodded. "Oddly enough, yes."

Kalros emerged again, trying to grab the machine only to be knocked directly into the Shroud tower. He winced, seeing panels and pieces of metal fly from the facility but thankfully it held. Truly a design meant to withstand even the krogan. At least it broke them out of their fascination with the combat between the two titans.

"We've got to move... damn! If they destroy that damn tower this is all for nothing," Shepard cursed.

He nodded. "I saw a way around when we were making a run for it. Hopefully Wrex has pulled out by now."

"Then let's finish this."

Just as they made it to the entrance of the Shroud facility the Reaper turned, apparently noticing their presence for the first time since the sudden attack by the massive thesher maw. Turning towards them Garrus felt dread settle into the pit of his stomach as that deep bellowing sound filled the air again and energy crackled around Reaper's main gun. The light flared into a brilliant red for a brief moment... and then the ground exploded behind the walking monstrosity, a mighty roar coming from Kalros as she sailed through the air and caught the Reaper directly in the back. A burst of super heated metal obliterated more of the ruins nearby instead of vaporizing them both instantly all thanks to the thresher maw's timely intervention.

"Spirits..." Garrus muttered.

Kalros' serpentine body immediately wrapped around the Reaper in a crushing grip, pulling it down to the ground. The sound of over stressed metal and electrical discharge filled the air. For a moment Garrus swore he heard something that could have the sound of distress coming from the massive Reaper. Then the great thresher maw tightened her coils once more and dove into the sand, dragging the offending machine with her. Seconds later only the disturbed dunes and smoldering ruins remained to speak of the great battle.

"Never thought I'd owe my life to a thresher maw," Shepard said grimly. "Come on, leave the Reaper to its grave. We've got to get to Mordin... this place is falling apart."

It wasn't an exaggeration. Even as they entered the facility Garrus could feel the ground trembling as explosions rocked the building, the battle having taken its toll. Even if Kalros hadn't slammed into the Shroud the Reaper's firepower combined with the great thresher maw's movements had destabilized the ground, further stressing the facility. Much to the turian's relief they found Mordin in the main room, already working at a console. Another explosion rocked the building and they were both forced to dodge to the side, a chunk of the ceiling slamming into the ground between them.

"Mordin! This place is coming apart! Did you do it?" Shepard asked, vaulting over the railing to move to the salarian's side while Garrus kept an eye on the exits.

"Yes! Cure loaded into Shroud databanks, beginning to synthesize now and transmit to other towers around Tuchanka."

"And... Eve?"

"Traumatic for her, but survived. Doing well now, Maelon's data invaluable," Mordin said excitedly. "Good for future of krogan people, will act as stabilizing influence if Urdnot Wrex gets any ideas. Good match."

A panel across the room shorted out and exploded, sending sparks flying. Garrus glanced over his shoulder at the pair and stopped, noticing the heavy pistol in Shepard's right hand. The Spectre was running his thumb along the grip, notch by notch, head down.

_What the hell is Shepard doing?_

"Mordin."

The doctor turned, fixing Shepard with a peculiar stare. "Cannot delay, Commander."

"I know."

Garrus' eyes widened for a moment as he saw Shepard's body stiffen, the grip on the pistol in his hands tight enough that the turian actually heard the polymer and metal creak. Then it passed, the Spectre's shoulders slumping slightly as he slammed the gun back onto the magnetic plate on his hip. Shepard's voice was weary when he spoke after the brief moment's pause.

"The STG modified the Shroud, Mordin. They sandbagged the system to prevent exactly what we're trying to do."

"Aware. Not unexpected, STG considers all possible scenarios. In highly unlikely event of krogan scientific breakthrough Shroud system modified to increase temperature variance. Fluctuation would negate lasting effect of any cure."

Shepard's head snapped up. "You knew?"

"Of course," Mordin said, smiling. "Dalatrass attempted to make deal?"

"Yes. The cure for the support of the Union."

"Suppose elimination of myself requirement for such a deal. Logical choice, economic power and fleet strength significant. Why didn't you?"

It was all Garrus could do not to yell out loud and demand that they tell him what was going on, preferably before the building exploded around them. He wasn't stupid, but clearly both Shepard and Mordin had more information than he did about what was happening, leaving him to scramble to connect the trail in his mind. It sounded like the Salarian Dalatrass had offered Shepard the backing of the Salarian government in exchange for not curing the genophage. Mordin was dedicated to curing the genophage. Meaning such a deal...

_Spirits... that was the decision, Shepard?_

"Maybe I should have, Mordin," Shepard replied, voice emotionless. "But this is all I have left. One line I haven't crossed yet."

The salarian reached out to put a hand on Shepard's shoulder.

"Many decisions. Many lives. Choices... difficult. But trust you to make right ones. Still do. Good luck, Shepard."

Then Mordin turned and strode into the nearby elevator, leaving both a stunned turian and human in his wake. Garrus couldn't stop his yell this time.

"What the hell, Mordin? You can't go up there! If you do..."

The doctor nodded.

"Explosion will be... problematic. Recommend you both retreat to a safe distance."

He looked at Shepard, dumbfounded, but the Spectre wouldn't meet his gaze. Instead Shepard turned to face Mordin squarely and snapped his arm up in a salute. The voice that filtered through his helmet was controlled, but thick and raspy.

"The galaxy could have used their best genius for awhile longer, Mordin."

Mordin was still smiling when he punched the key on his omni-tool to activate the lift.

"Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."

* * *

><p><em>And so goes one of the greatest characters in the Mass Effect series. <em>

_So, I've got two very wonderful readers helping me by editing the previous versions of Razor's Edge (seeing as how I didn't have my handy betas the first two times around). Once that happens I'm going to spend some time updating Razor's Edge with replacement chapters to fix all the typos at which point I'll post an update on those stories.  
><em>

_One item that has come up though is apparently it's cool to have covers for these ridiculously long works ;) I, however, feel bad about yoinking peoples artwork for such a purpose. _Long ago I had commissioned a work but the artist never actually finished it, and honestly as much as I like this story I don't have the money to shell out for a pro._ So I figured why not ask here? Anyone of you out there have some artistic talent and would be willing to help me out with a nice cover graphic for the completed Razor's Edge?  
><em>

_Hope you're all still enjoying the tale, as you can see I've already started taking more liberties. It gets interesting from here on out.  
><em>


	12. Chapter 11: Saviour

Chapter 11: Savior

"You did it, Shepard."

Wrex was covered in blood, some of it likely his own, the rest from countless husks. It ran down his armor and dripped like he'd just marched through an abattoir. In a way, he had; they all had. The price in lives lost for their victory and ones yet to come for the choices Shepard had made today was high. From their current position atop the stable remains of an ancient krogan city, they looked down at the collapsing Shroud below.

"No..." he replied quietly. "Mordin did. The STG sabotaged the facility years ago to prevent exactly what we just accomplished. He stayed behind to make sure that the cure worked."

The Shroud was a hollow shell of what it had once been, explosions having rocked it almost as soon as he and Garrus had made it to the exit. Only parts of the superstructure remained while the rest smoldered. He realized that in his final moments at the peak of the great tower Mordin must have been able to look down and see the world he had saved spread out before him. It was a sad comfort, but Shepard hoped the salarian had truly found his peace.

"He was a hell of a warrior... for a salarian," Wrex admitted grudgingly.

Eve's voice came from behind them. "He wasn't a warrior. Mordin was a healer, one that understood that sometimes even healers must fight. And I will make sure that he is not forgotten. No more than you will be, Shepard."

Shepard turned to face the female krogan, reaching up and slowly removing his helmet before he spoke.

"Mordin never sought fame. Just remember what today cost, Eve, and don't repeat the mistakes of the past."

"We will not, Shepard," she replied, fixing Wrex with a stern look that earned her a quick nod. Focusing her attention on the Spectre once more she inclined her head slightly. "Once you asked my name and I told you I had given it up. This is a new beginning for the krogan. And I think this new future you have given us is reason enough to reclaim what was lost."

"You don't owe me anything."

The krogan cocked her head and chuckled quietly.

"No, we owe you everything. My first daughter will bear the name Mordin as my way of passing on his gift, just as I am sure many krogan sons will bear yours in years to come. But a name can be a powerful thing, and I give you mine willingly," she said, meeting his gaze. "I stand as Urdnot Bakara... and I will fight for your cause, Commander Shepard of the Normandy."

Wrex nodded, moving to stand next to Bakara. "As will Clan Urdnot and every other krogan clan under my banner."

"Wrex... Bakara," Shepard replied, extending his hand to be clasped by each krogan, with Wrex holding on a moment longer.

"You listen, Shepard," the old krogan growled, tightening his grip. "No one knows the hell of war better than the krogan. So when it looks like the end is near and it's all gone to hell, that's when you give the call. We will end this together as brothers, fighting side by side. One way or the other."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, Wrex."

Finally the battlemaster let go and Shepard walked toward the waiting shuttle. Garrus was there, rifle still on his shoulder as he waited patiently. Behind him he heard Urdnot Bakara's voice call after him.

"Even in the darkest hour there is always hope, Shepard. Good luck."

No more words were spoken and they loaded up in silence. The rest of the ground team had returned to the Normandy already, with the exception of Garrus, and the turian cruiser had retrieved their surviving fighters and ground forces. Tuchanka was, for the moment, a safe world with the destruction of the lone Reaper that had been sent to hold it. A few scattered pockets of various husks still held out but would soon be destroyed by the newly invigorated krogan. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but an important one for morale. EDI had already transmitted their guncam footage of Kalros' defeat of the Reaper to Admiral Hackett for distribution to Alliance forces.

He noticed Garrus simply watching him, the turian's elbows propped on his knees.

"What?"

Garrus didn't answer at first, instead tapping his omni-tool.

"Care to explain what you're doing?"

"Disabling the audio/visual sensors for the passenger area," the turian replied simply.

"We going to have a problem?" Shepard asked coolly.

A low growl came from Garrus' throat as he looked away briefly. Armored talons tightened on his knees and then the Spectre found himself looking at sharp blue eyes once more.

"Why don't you tell _me_, Shepard? Or should I say why _didn't_ you tell me? The Dalatrass wanted to cut a secret deal, one that involved screwing over our friends and, spirits help me, shooting one of them? You didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"No. It wasn't your problem or your call to make."

"Not my call to make? I didn't ask you to put me in charge, Shepard," Garrus hissed, sounding genuinely angry now. "But I thought you might at least tell me ahead of time!"

Shepard threw up his hands. "Why the hell would I?"

Garrus' armored fist slammed into the bulkhead to his left and he got to his feet.

"Because I thought we were a fucking team! Shepard and Vakarian! Not Shepard - and sometimes - Vakarian, but just when he needs to know!"

"I weighed the options and came to a decision. There was no reason to involve you."

He found himself eye to eye with the former C-Sec officer. One armored talon jabbed the chest plate of his armor.

"I was involved from the moment you let me on the damn ship to hunt down Saren!" Garrus said.

"And look where that's gotten you," he replied bitterly. "Noticing a pattern, Garrus? Kaidan died on this mission. Liara became the god-damned Shadow Broker in the space of two years. Look in a mirror and see how you made out. Ashley is in the damn hospital - and you can see pretty damn well how Tali's life has gone since she joined the Normandy."

"Did you have a point?"

He grabbed the cowl of Garrus' armor, shoving the turian back against the bulkhead, a growl of his own coming unbidden. Shepard could see the anger in his friend's eyes and it was just feeding his own, knuckles white beneath his gauntlets where they gripped the turian's armor.

"My point should be pretty obvious. I got lazy when they brought me back from the dead. I tried to pretend it was all the fucking same. It's not the same and people paid the price for my decisions," Shepard said, his sentences clipped. "That damn little memorial wall on the crew deck? How many names before this is over, Garrus? Why don't you tell me? Because we've got one more name to add to it and we've been fighting this war for a month!"

"One name. One good man that the galaxy will mourn. In a war against ancient sentient starships? I'd say you've still got a pretty good record!"

"It's not bloody good enough! One Reaper. One dead genius. I don't have enough friends to keep playing those odds, Vakarian!"

The turian's eyes narrowed. "So what, you're just going to sit up there in your cabin, come down when it's time to kill something? Because I'm starting to think that's the only time I see the old Shepard anymore. Even the one that tried to crawled into a bottle might be better than the what I'm seeing now."

He barked out a laugh, the sudden change in his demeanor enough to confuse Garrus at least. Shepard moved away and leaned against the shuttle door.

"That's a good one. I can't even get drunk anymore, Garrus. Not physically possible."

"Your memory might be going, but I was on Illium. Me, Tali, and one very forgiving asari matriarch."

He smiled bitterly at the memory, a hazy one, but it was there.

"Fun fact about those wonderful cybernetics that Cerberus installed to bring me back. A doctor on the Citadel told me I hadn't reached my full potential. Got a report from Miranda not long before I turned myself in that said the same thing. They woke me up early so I guess everything wasn't quite finished 'integrating' yet. The biotics? The strength? All there and then some. Now I can throw out a warp field almost as strong as Liara. And I can down an entire bottle of whiskey and not even get the courtesy of a buzz for my trouble."

An entire bottle of whiskey wasn't an idle boast. Vega had managed to get him a bottle of pretty decent stuff during his enforced stay on Earth at his request. When the first two glasses hadn't done anything, he'd kept going. When the bottle had been emptied his head had still been clear, nothing more than the faintest feeling of warmth telling him he'd had a drink. Beneath his feet he felt the deck plating shift, the faint vibration that signaled that they settled into the Normandy's docking clamps.

Garrus sounded grim but continued on after this latest revelation.

"Fine, so you can't get drunk. The mission, one you almost died on again I might add, is over. Raise a glass of something that won't get you drunk to our salarian friend and let go for a little while."

He hit the door release, the pressurized hatch opening with a slow hiss.

"The mission isn't over until the Reapers are ash or I'm dead, Garrus. This isn't Saren or the Collectors. This is a war."

* * *

><p>"I'm not sure which of us looks worse," Anderson said, voice filled with fatigue and wry humor.<p>

"Most admirals old enough to be my father are usually manning a desk and not a guerrilla campaign. I'd say you're looking pretty good, sir."

The other man laughed. "That compliment could only have been more backhanded if you'd added 'with all due respect' to it, Shepard."

They were certainly a matched pair. Shepard in his armor, the advanced prototype now looking like little more than a collection of dents and scratches after the conflict on Tuchanka and Anderson, wearing Alliance 'working blues' that were devoid of rank insignia and stained with mud, soot, and other unidentified substances. Probably blood.

"I try, sir."

"You certainly do," Anderson agreed. "Hackett sent me that footage as soon as he got it. Quite a sight. I never thought I'd see a thresher that big... no residual effects on you?"

Shepard crossed his arms. "Residual effects?"

"You know what I mean, Shepard. The Alliance nearly slapped you with a section eight after Akuze... the only reason they didn't was because some of us thought you had it in you to pull through. That and it would have looked bad for the brass to discharge the only survivor of such a disastrous mission."

He set his mouth in a tight line, remembering the earlier encounter. It might have been a problem a year before, but now he was just... numb. There had been a momentary spike of adrenaline when the Spectre had felt the first telltale sign of the creature's approach. A faint shudder in the ground that made him want to just run as fast as he could. The encounter with the much smaller thresher during Grunt's Rite had at least helped him to exorcise that particular demon, it seemed. Facing it and killing it without the wholesale slaughter of his team had been enough to let him keep his head. The fact that Anderson had been one of the people to go to bat for him after Akuze, though, that was information he'd never known.

"I encountered another thresher maw during the course of the Collector mission. We killed it. It helped. I'll be fine, sir."

"There are different levels of fine, son," Anderson said quietly, his concerned look piercing even through the electric haze of a hologram.

Of all the people he knew there were few that could read him the way his former CO could. Maybe Garrus by now. But, despite their argument in the shuttle, he did see the turian as his equal. Anderson would always be his superior, a voice of wisdom and, occasionally, rebuke. It had been Anderson that had helped drag him back on the straight and narrow after the nightmare that had been Akuze. He'd seen him at his worst and ever since Shepard had been driven to make sure that he was the best. Every time Shepard thought of the choices he'd made to reach this point he wondered if he'd failed in that regard.

Shepard didn't answer for a long moment.

"We've all got the same war to fight. I've got a handle on it. I'm more concerned about how the war is going for everyone else. I'm surprised that it was you on the comm."

"These QECs are the one good thing to come out of Cerberus other than bringing you back. Hackett has been keeping me apprised. With no chance of the communications being intercepted I'm rather well informed for someone stuck on an occupied planet."

"And how is that occupation going? Hackett hasn't given me anything concrete," he asked.

Anderson sighed and took off his hat, knocking it against his thigh before slipping it back on, as if it would make any difference in the amount of dirt caked on it.

"It's a damned mess, but the fight isn't over. The Reapers have either destroyed or taken control of the largest population centers. They started broadcasting on general frequency demanding world leaders to enter their facilities for negotiations... which we both know just means indoctrination. Right now we use the QEC's to coordinate as best with can through Hackett and hit their ground forces whenever we get a chance."

"Can't believe they're making it easy."

"They're not," the older man said ruefully. "But they're not creative. We hit one area and the next day they're back, just with more troops. Their tactics don't seem to change much but they've definitely got the numbers to get away with it. Right now we're just focusing on disrupting their attempts to capture civilians, every person that gets away... that's how we're measuring success. Our only real advantage right now is that they're poorly equipped to deal with armor. The Makos do a number on them."

Success was a deceptive word, he knew. The Reapers seemed to possess an inexhaustible supply of ground troops and now that they were harvesting Earth that number would only increase. It was good to hear that they hadn't lost the will to fight, though. The real question would be whether they still had that spirit in another month or however long it took him to come up with a plan to take back their home.

"The krogan are all-in now. Assuming Victus keeps up his end of the bargain we'll have the turians as well. I don't know if it will be enough but we're in a better position than we were a month ago," Shepard replied. "I won't stop until we come back to Earth with every ship in the galaxy behind us, Anderson. I promise you that."

The admiral frowned. "We'll hold, don't worry. Don't get target fixation, Shepard. You've always been like a dog with a bone. Taking back Earth... it won't win this war, no matter how much I would like to say otherwise."

"I'm not abandoning you to the damned Reapers... sir," he added, through clenched teeth.

A distant voice could be heard on the admiral's end of the line and the older man turned away briefly. Anderson nodded once at someone outside the visual range of the communication device before turning his attention back to Shepard. He gave the Spectre a tired smile.

"Don't think I said anything about abandoning. Just keep your head clear. I've got to go, it's time to move out again. Looks like we've got patrols heading this way. We're still fighting here, Shepard. You do the same. Good luck, Anderson out."

"You too," he muttered, but the hologram had already faded, leaving him in the now silent comm room once more.

A few keystrokes brought up an endless stream of reports on the console. The Normandy's war room was likely the most informed information hub in the entire war between the direct line to Hackett and Liara's network. It was both a blessing and a curse. Knowing more let them react faster and more effectively than they might otherwise... but it also meant that he was keenly aware of every casualty report and battle. Data from Palaven reported a death toll of over five million just in the past week. Earth was the same or worse. Entire colonies were going dark and every fleet engagement showed the galaxy's forces to be grossly outmatched by the sheer power of the Reapers.

Shepard closed the terminal, shaking his head and making his way through the war room to the elevator outside, then finally to his cabin. Every step he took felt like his boots were filled with solid lead. Once he arrived the Spectre began the slow process of removing his battered gear piece by piece, the occasional hiss of pain offering a counterpoint to the gurgling of the fish tank. The fish that Kelly had so considerately saved for him were once more floating lazily inside, blissfully unaware in their simple existence. All save the ugly little rock fish that Shepard had named 'Wrex'. It sat motionless at the bottom, seemingly watching him.

He gave the tank a thump with his knuckles near the lumpy looking creature's position as he passed by on the way to his shower.

"Don't give me any looks."

The fish was as unimpressed as its namesake, remaining still. It apparently had no intention of going anywhere as it was in the same position when he emerged from the shower. From the desk his omni-tool beeped, reminding him that he had an urgent message. It had been doing so for the better part of an hour, every innocuous tone somehow sounding accusatory. Shepard sighed and opened his terminal, finding the message easily. Opening it was less easy, even as he read the identification tag over and over.

_To: Commander Shepard - From: Mordin Solus_

He took a deep breath and finally pressed the key to open the message. There was a brief pause and the terminal's screen flickered on and off before finally settling down into the image of a black screen with a circular pattern in the center, rings within rings broken into sections. Shepard gave the screen a puzzled look until EDI's hologram appeared in the lower corner of the screen and she spoke.

"Shepard, I received a notice from... Mordin?"

A hint of surprise, maybe even sadness. The salarian had been part of EDI's crew, the people she was programmed to protect. He wondered if those same positive feedback loops she had told him about had negative counterparts, the machine equivalent of guilt, sadness, and grief.

"He sent me a file. I can only assume it was... something he had planned."

"I see," the AI responded, pausing momentarily before she continued. "It appears as if Professor Solus encrypted the message knowing that you would likely receive it aboard the Normandy. The complexity of the security algorithm would preclude decryption by most organics."

"Most?" he asked.

"There is a fifty eight point four percent chance that Kasumi Goto would be able to crack the encryption with sufficient time. Similar probabilities apply to Tali'Zorah Vas Normandy. Four point zero zero three percent chance of Garrus Vakarian accomplishing a similar task. Would you like me to proceed?"

He stared at the circle, each ring moving slowly, out of sync with the others. It was almost hypnotic. Shepard wondered if Mordin had somehow always known he wouldn't return from Tuchanka. The scientist would have scoffed at ideas of predestination or fate, he thought, but there was always the lingering question. Whatever it was, clearly the good doctor had considered it important enough to secure with the utmost care. What could be so significant that Mordin would leave him a final message after his death?

"Shepard?"

"Do it."

The rings were already moving, flashing and shifting on the screen as the first one locked in place and began to glow green.

"Processing... decryption complete. The file is ready to be accessed."

"Thank you, EDI," he said quietly.

"I enjoyed Professor Solus' time aboard the Normandy. He would often engage in philosophical debates with me while running tests and simulations even before Jeff unshackled me," the AI said suddenly. "Now that he is gone I find my processes... preoccupied reviewing this previous data."

Shepard smiled sadly, his previous question clearly answered. "It's natural, EDI. We want to hold on to the people that we've lost. For you... I guess you have both a blessing and a curse as a synthetic. You'll remember him perfectly, forever, while our memories will fade with time until it's no longer so distinct. So that loss will always be fresh for you. I'm not sure which is worse."

"I do not know. I am still trying to process such a question. I will disable my internal sensors until you have completed playback of the message. I expect that the Professor would have wished for his final words to remain private."

EDI's hologram disappeared from the screen, leaving him alone once more. With a sense of resignation he activated the message. Immediately this time, an image of Mordin appeared. The salarian wore an expression Shepard had seen often, a barely perceptible smile that always seemed to be present when the man had found some fascinating new data.

_"Shepard. Will attempt to avoid further vid cliches after initial greeting. If you have received this message then failsafe program has activated after designated elapsed time without update. Alternatively, activated myself if understood. Either case, am deceased. Odd statement to record."_

Mordin's recording seemed to pause, considering the novelty for a moment before he continued. His expression became more serious as he spoke.

_"Always understood stakes. Also fully aware of your psychological profile and tendencies. Will blame yourself for death. Guilt levels likely completely unrelated to actual ability to stop it. Do not do so. Platitude, but must be said. Have lived long life. Accomplished much. Hope that genophage was able to be cured before my death."_

"It was Mordin... you did it," Shepard told the screen, not even realizing he was whispering. "I just wish I could have found a way for you to see it."

_"Getting into personal musings, will return to relevant topic. Copy of this message was sent to Padok Wiks. Also STG, likely former by the time of this message. Assisted me during attempts to save krogan females and provided access to secure STG databases. Continued to supply Urdnot Wrex with intelligence. Good man, almost as qualified as I am, if younger. Sure he will continue to improve with age. Somewhat strange views on origins of universe and sentient life. Punched him once. Still friends. Personal musings again."_

_"Did not mention this before as did not wish to preoccupy you during mission preparation. Have named yourself and Padok Wiks as joint heirs to all of my assets. Not rich, though not bad off. Vid appearances surprisingly lucrative. Minor assets unimportant, however. Contained within message are all notes on current and previous projects including Collector data, viral cures, and many other items."_

The image on the screen sighed.

_"Salarian lifespan short. Knew that I would not have time to accomplish everything. War further decreases likelihood of completion of projects. Obviously most data contained within will be outside of your scientific understanding but Wiks fully capable of assisting in translation. Did many things, Shepard, hoped to make up for... past mistakes. Important things. Dangerous things. Padok Wiks good man and intelligent, but leaving it up to you to decide how to use data contained within."_

Dark eyes somehow managed to meet his own, even through a flat digital recording. Another smile appeared on Mordin's face, this one the simple expression of a man at peace. The same expression he had seen when Mordin had stepped into the elevator on Tuchanka.

_"Would liked to have run tests on the seashells. But clearly was time to take my place in the Great Wheel. Your responsibilities... beyond normal men, Shepard. But so are your capability, will, and integrity. Must make the decisions that others cannot. Firmly believe no other sentient better suited. Good luck, Shepard. Was an honor."_

"Yes... yes it was," Shepard said, voice thick.

The image faded from the screen and in the dim light of the cabin only a small, ugly fish saw the wetness on the soldier's cheeks as he put his head in his hands.

* * *

><p><em>Below him is smoke and fire, an endless sea of it. Jagged, irregular forms jutted above it in places. He recognizes, after a long moment, that the blackened forms were buildings, concrete and steel blackened by fire. Shepard sees small forms moving, trying to escape the fire only to be engulfed by it. They must have been miles away but he still hears the screams.<em>

_"I warned you, human... told you this would happen."_

_He spins on his heel and jerks backwards in shock._

_"No... you're dead!"_

_Saren Arterius' plated lips turn up into a vicious grin, eyes flashing with malice. The turian's face is covered in dark blue blood, still wet where it coveres his left shoulder and his right mandible, which dangles brokenly off his cheek. Between every plate he sees the red glow of cybernetics. When Saren speaks his words were perfectly clear despite the damage._

_"So were you, Shepard. But look at you, two years a corpse and now you're faster and stronger than ever. Metal reinforced bones and synthetic muscle fibers laced through your body. You can feel them under your skin, can't you? Even a year later... I know I felt them every second."_

_When the turian rolls his neck Shepard can see the gaping hole in the side of the other man's head. The exit wound when Saren had come back from the brink and put the pistol to his own head, pulling the trigger. A last ditch grasp for freedom from Sovereign's control. But he hadn't really been free, even in death the Reaper had used his body._

_"It's not the same."_

_Saren's ruined face smiles again, predatory and fierce. "Isn't it? Sovereign implanted me, improved me. Cerberus... where did they get that technology? The ability to raise you up from a pile of meat and tubes, improved, better. A synthesis of flesh and steel."_

_The human doesn't answer, instead turning and looking away, down at the sea of fire once more, trying to ignore the turian's words._

_"I fought them. I'm still fighting them," he whispers._

_"Maybe you just think you are..." Saren hisses in his ear._

_On reflex he brings up an elbow but finds only air, spinning with the force of the blow. Saren stands a few feet away, motionlessly beneath the dark gray sky. Ashes float down like fresh snow and the turian surveys out over the devastation below._

_"You destroyed one of them. But your precious doctor, he burned, didn't he? What if the salarian could have discovered the secret? That one weakness that would have let you defeat them... and you let him die for what? A bunch of lizards? Love? Honor? Mercy? Pathetic!"_

_"Shut up!" Shepard roars, charging at the man._

_There was no impact once again. He falls to his hands and knees on the scorched earth, fingers digging into the ground. Burnt grass cracks and disintegrates between his fingertips as he looks around for his antagonist only to find Saren crouching next to him._

_"Who's the next sacrifice?" the dead Spectre asks, splashes of thick blue blood hitting the ground with each word. One talon gestures to his right and Shepard looks, seeing a new scene playing out below._

_Husks swarm over a few lone defenders, guns blazing as a massive metal form hangs behind them. A bomb, just like the one they had defused on Tuchanka. He was looking at himself. Firing into a husk, knocking another aside. A slim woman in a hood appears at his side just as another creature leaps for his throat. Claws tear into thin armor, vibrant crimson spraying over them both. The woman clutches her stomach, the same crimson stain running down her lips._

_"No..." he grunts, trying to drag himself in the direction of the fight._

_Saren laughs, a wet, choking sound. "Yes... they'll die for you. Their saviour. One by one."_

_"No."_

_A turian is at the side of the other 'him', cradling the hooded woman, easing her to the ground as the light leaves her eyes. He fires and fires, killing more husks. The endless wave of them crash like waves on a bloodstained shore. Blue armor, blackened around the neck and torn open wide. The turian tells him it's the only way and begins to run. Running towards the bomb, scrambling up the side. A husk claws up the other side, slashing at the turian as he frantically presses controls. The turian looks back and down at him, words clear. Victory at any cost. The world goes white._

_"Garrus!"_

_"Two turians. You killed me first," Saren says._

_The dead Spectre's boot is on his back suddenly shoving him down onto his chest._

_"But you'll kill him too. Maybe even the same way. Get him to kill himself for your cause... wouldn't that be fitting?"_

_"NO!"_

_This time his arm does connect with something as he rolls. Saren staggers back and falls down as Shepard lunges forward, knocking the turian's legs out from under him. He's atop the other man's armored form in an instant, hand wrapping around Saren's throat._

_"I won't!" Shepard growls. "I'm not going to watch them all die!"_

_"Who said you have a choice?" Saren asks, unfazed. His mangled face is still laughing even as his voice deepens, becoming more resonate and echoing. "We are your salvation through destruction. We are beyond your comprehension."_

_"ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL."_

_He looks down at the hand around Saren's throat, suddenly able to see blood and bone beneath his cracking skin as fire pours through his veins. Burning golden light etches every inch of his body. Shepard screams. And Saren's laughter echoes across the dead plains._

He awoke with a scream, muscles carrying him out of bed and onto the floor through sheer reflex. Shepard's shaking hand found the pistol at his bedside and he ran his thumb down the grip almost like it was a rosary. One notch. Two, three, four... all the way to that fresh seventh notch. Kneeling on the floor, he felt sweat running down his body as his lungs sucked in air in desperate breaths. It was a dream but he would swear that he could still feel the fire in his veins. He looked down at the gun in his right hand. Visions of Saren's final moments played through his mind even as he tightened his grip on the pistol, thumb now pressed against the safety.

"Commander Shepard?" EDI's voice asked urgently. "Shepard, I am detecting a dangerous spike in your vital signs. I will alert Dr. Chakwas immediately."

"No... EDI, no," he said, repeating it more firmly. "Belay that. I'm fine."

"Heart rate and respiration are indicative of possible onset of shock. Medical procedure-"

"Do not alert Dr. Chakwas. I am not going into shock. Tell Traynor to compile the latest reports and have them ready. I'll be in the CIC in half an hour. That'll be all, EDI."

The AI didn't sound convinced, but agreed. "Very well, Shepard. Logging you out."

* * *

><p>Shepard was in his armor again by the time he made it to the CIC. Their current destination was the Citadel, but he couldn't help but wonder how much longer that would be a true safe haven. He could only surmise that with their initial gambit failing, the Reapers no longer considered it of importance to their war effort. He found Traynor in the cockpit speaking with Joker and EDI, datapad in hand.<p>

"I'm not apologizing," Joker said, throwing up his hands.

"Jeff, deceiving Specialist Traynor during the refit was necessary but still a breach of trust. It would only be polite to apologize for your part in the deception," EDI chastised.

"Keyword: necessary. Makes it totally kosher."

"I'm fine, really," Traynor insisted. "We're all friends now, right? So it's water under the bridge."

Shepard interrupted, rescuing the woman from the impending argument between pilot and ship's AI.

"Specialist?"

"Commander! I have the reports you requested... maybe the CIC terminal would be more appropriate?" she asked.

"Most likely, lead on."

Joker and EDI didn't even notice their absence, still sniping back and forth. Apparently EDI having a physical body didn't soften their pilot's usual sarcastic demeanor at all. Once they made it back to Traynor's station she sighed with relief, running hand through her hair.

"Wow, they really are like an old married couple, aren't they?"

"You would not be the first person to make that observation," Shepard agreed dryly.

"Somehow I am not surprised. Here's what I've gotten in so far. We're discharging our drive core before the last jump to the relay, then we'll be at the Citadel. Once we're there I can probably get more detailed information."

The reports were telling a similar story to what he'd seen in the war room the night before. Smaller colonies bombarded briefly from space to destroy any spaceports and their satellite coverage wiped out... then simply left behind. One report made his jaw clench, noting that Illium had officially fallen with no current estimate on how many had made it off world before the Reapers struck. Their stay on the asari world had been brief but there were good people there. Now those graceful towers were likely reduced to rubble and melted glass, pillars of asari grace wiped out in an instant.

They were in the middle of reviewing the final set of reports when Shepard's omni-tool began to chime urgently. He looked down to find it pinging constantly, tapping at the display to see what was triggering the alert, only to catch a glimpse of Garrus exiting the elevator behind him. He noted the glow of the turian's omni-tool flashing as well.

"You too?"

Shepard nodded. "What the hell is it?"

"Uhh... Shepard, we've got company," Joker's voice called from the cockpit.

He and Garrus practically sprinted the distance. Hanging in space outside was a slate gray ship of utilitarian design. A picket ship, one of the Alliance's earlier models that had long since been decommissioned. Not even close to half the Normandy's size, it barely even qualified as a frigate. He looked down at Joker who merely shrugged.

"Commander, they are attempting to open communications," EDI informed him.

"Let's see it."

A surprising image appeared on the nearest viewscreen - the unmistakable form of a quarian helmet. Male, from what Shepard could tell by previous experience. The eyes shining behind the visor were fixed on the screen.

"SSV Normandy, this is Captain Borto'Nara vas Resuca. Do you copy?"

He blinked. A quarian ship?

"This is Commander Shepard, Captain Nara. This is an odd place to meet a quarian ship. Care to explain how you got here?"

"Carefully, Captain Shepard. And we came looking for you."

"We're in the middle of space," Garrus interjected, sounding suspicious. "You don't just stumble across one ship in an entire system."

The quarian captain shook his head. "We were not 'stumbling'. It is a... long story. Why we came is more important right now, however. I have the Admiralty Board on my ship, Shepard."

"The... entire Admiralty Board?" he asked incredulously.

"Minus Admiral Gerrel, yes. The Board is requesting permission to come aboard the Normandy, Captain Shepard."

"Why?"

Captain Nara's sigh was audible even over the comm. "Because we need your help, Shepard... or this ship will be all that's left of the quarian people."

* * *

><p>"Didn't realize quarians had such a flair for the dramatic," Garrus muttered, leaning back against the railing in the war room.<p>

"When we studied them in our cycle they already possessed a very advanced social structure for a primitive species," Javik added. "I would be unsurprised to find that this trait continues to express itself."

The turian chuckled, eying Javik. "That why you decided to hang out for this little meeting?"

"I have encountered most of the species that my people discovered. The results have been... interesting. I have not yet encountered a 'modern' quarian, aside from the data contained on your information network."

"Glad we entertain you so."

Shepard stopped pacing and held up a hand, cutting them both off.

"Stow it. EDI just updated me that they've docked. Westmoreland and Campbell are escorting them here now."

"Any indication as to what this is all about?" Garrus asked, demeanor immediately turning serious.

Their argument in the shuttle hadn't been brought up by either party and Garrus for his part didn't seem inclined to push the issue thus far. Shepard was fairly certain that it was going to come up again but he'd take the reprieve. For now they both were acting like it had never happened in the light of whatever crisis had now arisen.

"Nothing. Captain Nara said that it wasn't his place and that the Admirals would explain."

"The quarians appear to have developed a much more militaristic society than I would have expected," Javik said.

The Spectre shrugged and a rush of information spilled from his lips before he even thought about it.

"They have a democratic conclave as well that acts as the governing body of the people, enacting fleet-wide laws and similar policies. The Admiralty Board is their way of preventing politics and red tape from endangering their species, a few people with a great deal of power in the right situation but theoretically answerable to the greater whole of the Conclave. They have the power to override the entire Conclave but in turn each Admiral must immediately resign. In practice the Board has a great deal more power than just the 'oversight' they claim. As a species, however, they're probably just as democratic as the Alliance or the asari."

"Your knowledge of quarian political structure is extensive, Commander," the prothean commented.

A gravelly voice with an artificial edge cut in.

"That's because Shepard had to put up with our crap before."

His attention snapped to the door that he hadn't even noticed open. Standing at the threshold was a male quarian wearing reddish wraps, taller and broader than most quarians he'd ever seen. Hearing that voice, there was no mistaking the man and Shepard moved around the holo-display in the middle of the room to greet him.

"Reegar? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Keeping on the VIPs like a mother varren, sir. Your marines wouldn't let me keep my gun," the quarian responded, grabbing Shepard's outstretched hand and shaking it firmly. "Wasn't going to let them leave me on the shuttle, though."

"I think Lieutenant Reegar can be trusted with his weapon, private."

The two marines both looked sheepish upon realizing that they'd apparently hassled someone that was actually friends with Shepard and quickly returned the quarian's pistol and shotgun before heading back to the security checkpoint. Reegar settled both weapons into place instinctively and patted the gun at his hip.

"Much better. Feel naked without it."

"We wouldn't want that," Garrus said dryly.

"No, we wouldn't. I'm a powerfully ugly creature under this," Reegar responded, tapping the visor and earning an appreciative guffaw from the turian.

"Can you tell me what's going on here, Reegar?" Shepard asked.

The marine glanced over his shoulder at the approaching forms of three more suited quarians before speaking quietly.

"It's a damned mess, sir. But I'll let the Admirals explain it all, I'm just here doing my job as honor guard."

They moved back into the room near the holo-display as the other quarians filed in. Always covered in envirosuits and cloth wraps, it was often difficult for most species to tell quarians apart and even Shepard wasn't an expert. The ones before him now, however, he had dealt with them first hand. It wasn't terribly difficult for him to pick them out even before they spoke.

"Admiral Xen. Admiral Koris. Admiral Raan."

Shala'Raan stepped forward and inclined her head. "Commander Shepard. It is good to see you again... I only wish it could be under better circumstances."

"I could say the same. I had hoped to have your support for the war against the Reapers, but I haven't heard anything from the Migrant Fleet since the invasion began. Now you show up in the middle of nowhere and I start getting cryptic answers. What's going on?"

"A week ago - in direct violation of our agreement without the Council, I would add - we initiated precision strikes against four systems inside the Perseus Veil. And so began the war to retake our homeworld," Zaal'Koris explained, his tone resigned. "In doing so we made a grave mistake."

The simple statement stopped any response Shepard had in its tracks as his brain tried to catch up. War. In the middle of the invasion of the most powerful threat the galaxy had ever seen, the quarians had started a war against the more numerous, better equipped forces of the entire geth collective. The Migrant Fleet was supposed to be safe, mobile and with sufficient firepower concentrated in one place that even the Reapers might leave it be for some time. He finally spoke and his voice sounded harsh even to himself.

"You're throwing yourself at the geth? At the height of your bloody civilization you lost that war! A war that should never have happened in the first place."

"On that we can agree," Zaal'Koris said.

"We did not enter this war unprepared, Shepard," Daro'Xen interjected quickly. "Using information obtained from the Alarei... incident I was able to develop advanced anti-geth countermeasures. By bombarding their systems with corrupted garbage data and overriding safety protocols we were able to reduce them to near helplessness!"

"It would seem your countermeasure was insufficient if you come seeking aid," Javik said.

Three visors turned to look at the prothean as if registering his presence for the first time. Shepard was beginning to wonder if the prothean's mental talents didn't also extend to remaining unnoticed when he wished. Between the encounters with the crew and his time on the Citadel there had been amazingly few instances of panic, far less than he had expected, at least.

"Who or... what is this?" Admiral Xen demanded icily.

"I am called Javik, quarian. And I am a prothean. But that has little bearing on whatever folly your people have perpetrated now."

Already Shepard could see Xen's posture changing, preparing the usual statement on the impossibility of Javik's claim, but he cut her off.

"You can ask your questions later. For now I want to know exactly what the hell is it you've done."

Admiral Raan opened her omni-tool and sent data directly to the Normandy's databanks. An image appeared on the display at the center of the room. It was a large planet covered in swathes of brown and red, broken up by simmering blue seas. Through human eyes it looked almost as if someone had combined Earth and Mars into a single planet. Ringing the planet were the glowing icons of ship designators. Hundreds upon hundreds of them.

"Our initial assault was unbelievably successful. The geth could not counter our new weapon and we forced them back to the home system in a matter of days," Shala'Raan explained. "We thought that this war would be over with only superficial losses on our part."

"What went wrong, then?" Garrus asked flatly.

Zaal'Koris supplied the information this time, another display appearing to the left of the planet. It showed a discordant pulsing line and coding beneath, cryptic icons that moved almost too fast for the eye to see. But he recognized them. He could almost hear it himself after living with it in his dreams since Eden Prime.

"When we began the final push to Rannoch, this signal began broadcasting to all geth in system..."

"The Reapers," Shepard said.

"Correct. This signal has increased the geth's effectiveness by an order of magnitude. My countermeasures have absolutely no effect as long as the geth ships are in receiving the signal," Xen agreed in exasperation. "What should have been our moment of triumph quickly became a losing battle. We attempted to retreat but geth warships had blockaded the relay."

The Spectre threw his hands in the air and began to pace, doing his best to reign in his emotions, trying not think about crippled ships floating in space, lifepods picked off by precision fire from relentless geth cruisers. He tried even harder to not wonder whether the Neema would be amongst them.

"Are you telling me the entire Migrant Fleet is trapped in your home system with the geth fleet? An upgraded geth fleet that you just provoked a war with?"

"In essence, yes. That is exactly what we are telling you," Koris said. "Admiral Han'Gerrel is coordinating the Flotilla as a whole now, making micro jumps between the various planets in-system to stay away from the bulk of the geth forces. But we cannot keep this up. A fleet as large as ours cannot avoid confrontation forever confined to a single system and even with our numbers... the resulting battle would be the final act of the quarian people. Under the Reapers' control the geth fleet will wipe our people out."

"There is hope, however. We did not come to you without a plan," Shala added quickly.

"How did you come to us? You said the geth had blockaded the relay."

Shala'Raan nodded. "They did, but Captain Nara's vessel is an experimental ship using principles similar to the Normandy's stealth drive. It is unfortunately not as advanced but it was enough to allow us to escape the system."

"Which is why we need your help," Daro'Xen said, picking up where Raan left off and zooming in on one of the blips over Rannoch. The image of a colossal warship appeared, flanked by dozens of smaller cruisers.

Garrus gave a small hiss of astonishment. "Spirits! Shepard, that thing has to be half again the size of the Hierarchy's Imperator-class dreadnoughts."

"Indeed, the geth dreadnought is equivalent in size to one of our liveships," Raan explained. "But it is vastly superior in terms of armor, barriers, and firepower. It also appears to be the source of the transmission of the Reaper signal. We have surmised that it requires a vessel of the dreadnought's size to generate sufficient power to transmit to all geth units in the system."

He could already see the plan in his head. Shepard laughed mirthlessly.

"And with the Normandy's advanced stealth systems we could get in undetected. Any other force in the galaxy and we'd never get close because someone would look out a window."

"But 'windows are structural weaknesses and geth do not use them'," Garrus finished for him.

"Exactly. And when we knock out the signal, the Fleet burns hard for the relay and gets of there before they find some way to fix it."

"That is our hope, Commander. Unless we can disable that signal our people are lost" Zaal'Koris said with a sigh.

It could be done, of that much he was certain, but it would be risky. All it would take was one screw up in the stealth system and a hundred geth warships with the latest Reaper targeting algorithms would reduce the Normandy to so much scrap. Not to mention they would have to deal with an unknown number of geth platforms once they boarded the dreadnought. But a fast, precise strike could succeed. Then at least the quarians could get away with only whatever losses they had already sustained.

Shepard leaned against the console and gave a sigh of his own, shaking his head. "We'll do this. But I have to know... why? How, even?"

"Why? Because our existence as wandering nomads has gone on long enough. We have been exiled for far too long by our own creations," Xen snapped.

"Then how? Last time I was aboard the Migrant Fleet there were only four Admirals and your people were still divided over the idea of war."

"Ah... no, Commander. The final vote was with the full Board. In light of Admiral Xen's new countermeasures and the arguments presented I am afraid that I voted in support of this war, along with Admirals Gerrel and Xen," Shala'Raan said. "Our newest Admiral opposed the war along with Zaal'Koris. She said she would be joining us shortly. As our expert on the geth... I only wish we had listened to her."

Shepard looked at Admiral Raan in confusion for a moment before connecting the statements in his head, breath catching in his throat as the door to the war room hissed open once more. A thousand emotions boiled up all at once at the achingly familiar sight of an envirosuit swathed in deep purple, her voice taunting him with memories of the past; memories of nervous laughter and joking comments... emotional pleas and pleased gasps... painful words and strained goodbyes.

"We can't change the past. But we can at least make sure we make up for the mistakes we've made..." the quarian said, looking down at his position from her place at the top of the short set of stairs leading into the war room.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, reporting for duty."

* * *

><p><em>And there is our long lost Tali! <em>

_A few more items: I'm still hunting for an artist to do a full on cover for RE. I've gotten a few good pieces to build off of but still hunting! Also... for all of you that have been reading since the beginning between the dedicated efforts of Fanghur (who made a very awesome PDF version of the original!) and Bahroo who has managed to edit the story in its entirety in an impressive amount of time... the original Razor's Edge will be getting an update sometime soon. Better formatted, purged of typos, and maybe even a few small tweaks! So stay tuned...  
><em>

_Some more 'mood music' that is definitely appropriate for this chapter I think..._

www . youtube watch?v=Los0g9Et7Ow


	13. Chapter 12: Once More Into The Breach

Chapter 12: Once More Into the Breach

It was strange. Even after six long months the Normandy still felt like home. After returning to the Migrant Fleet Tali could have requested to use her old ship name again and in those first few frustrating and angry weeks she had even considered it. If the same scenario had played out two years earlier she likely would have. Time changed everything, though, just like the Normandy had. And Shepard. Everyone that became part of the Normandy's crew was forever touched by the experience... she merely carried that legacy in her name as well as spirit. The first step onto the Normandy's hangar deck brought back a rush of emotions, ones that she thought she had been able to successfully lock away.

"Aun- Admiral Raan," she said, correcting herself immediately. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was an Admiral now, she had to act like it. "Please go ahead. I can find my way. I just... need a moment to collect my thoughts."

The older quarian woman cocked her head slightly and placed a hand on Tali's forearm. A simple gesture of understanding.

"We will brief the Commander, come along when you are ready."

"Shala, we cannot dawdle," Xen said sharply. "Every minute we waste is one more Han'Gerrel must spend dodging the Geth."

"I am aware, Admiral," Raan replied tersely and motioned for her to proceed with a finally sidelong glance at Tali.

Xen made another scathing comment but she was already out of earshot, moving to meet the pair of young human marines that stood near the elevator. Tali was left with her thoughts as she gazed around the hangar bay and absently noted the changes the Alliance had made. Weapons lockers and a workbench. It reminded her of the original Normandy more and more, drawing a faint smile to her lips.

The smile faded as soon as she saw the locker with 'Shepard' stenciled in hard edged military font across the front. Reflexively her hands joined at her waist, fingers lacing together in a nervous bundle that she very consciously forced apart and to her sides as she took a few steps closer to the small armory. Tali gazed at the name and tried to get a handle on the thoughts that were running rampant through her head. Her first thought on leaving the shuttle had been to just run for the elevator. Get to the briefing room before the others and then...

That was where everything became a mess. Part of her wanted to just throw herself at the infuriating human, to wrap her arms around him and tell him how happy she was that he was alive. And another part wanted to hit him as hard as she could for betraying her trust. How many times in the past months had she replayed their last week together in her head? The number had long since lost meaning.

She'd recovered from her injuries aboard the Shadow Broker's ship thanks to Chakwas' expert care and a blissful week on Illium with Shepard, and when she was well enough they had returned to the Normandy. Life had returned to normal, such as it was, and they had continued doing what Shepard did best. Then the call had come and Shepard had reluctantly asked her to leave the room. She had seen Hackett's face as the doors closed... and when she returned from her shift in engineering Shepard was gone. Joker told her they were running silent in the Bahak system. Two long days passed. Two days that had nearly driven her insane as she had paced the deck, worrying.

At last a transmission had come through, Shepard calling in for a pick up from an asteroid in the system. Time seemed to blur in her memory. The asteroid had been on a collision course with the relay and they had pushed the Normandy to the very limits of her drives to make it through before the impact. When she had finally made it to the CIC Shepard had been leaning on the railing looking down at the galaxy map, still wearing a battered set of armor. He had simply watched as the system they had just left blinked once... and then disappeared.

A few days later they were on the Citadel. Shepard was turning himself in, surrendering to the Alliance to appease the cries of outrage from the Hegemony and others. She had tried to get him to talk about what had happened on the asteroid but the answers he provided always came out toneless and dry. Like he was reading from an after action report that he kept in his head. Tali wasn't sure which moment had hurt more: when she had walked away or when she realized that he didn't trust her enough to tell her exactly what had happened.

"Why wouldn't you stay with me?" she whispered, resting her fingers on the nameplate of the locker.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

She jumped, turning on her heel and reaching for her pistol before she stopped herself. The human that addressed her wasn't one she recognized. His skin was a deeper shade of brown, but he had the same close-cropped haircut she had become familiar with as an Alliance standard. He seemed friendly enough at least.

"I... no, sorry. I was just... thinking," Tali replied. "This isn't my first time aboard the Normandy."

"You must be Tali'Zorah?"

She nodded.

"Steve Cortez. I've kind of taken over as the shuttle pilot and quartermaster," the man introduced himself. "The Alliance did change the Normandy's floor plan somewhat, you can ask EDI if you need help."

"I'm sure I can find the way. Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Just call me Steve, most everyone does. Or Cortez if you're feeling military... Shepard doesn't seem to be much for formalities so most people don't get the name and rank treatment."

Tali gave a small chuckle. "Just him. When I met him I thought some humans only had one name and their rank from the way everyone addressed him."

"I always wondered about that. I've noticed even Garrus calls him Shepard most of the time and they seem to be close. Did anyone even use his first name when you served with him before?"

She looked away for a moment, the opaque visor at least concealing pained look that crossed her face. Memories of skin and tangled sheets ran through her mind, looking up at him, whispering his name.

_I did._

"It just became normal for everyone to call him Shepard, I guess," Tali replied instead, doing her best to sound nonchalant. "It was either that or Commander."

"Sounds about right. If you stick around for long I'm sure some of the crew, especially Vega, will want to talk to you. Even after everything that happened Shepard's become kind of a larger-than-life figure to most of the rank and file in the Alliance. Most of the crew are dying to ask him about the stuff that happened a few years back."

She was distracted from her own problems for a moment by Cortez's comment. Humans weren't quite as voraciously social as quarians but they were close. Most of the time she found that their curiosity eventually overrode any hesitation or shyness and of all people Shepard seemed like the one that would have the least issues addressing his crew. Even when the Normandy had been a Cerberus vessel he'd taken time to at least have a few words with most of the crewmen.

"Why haven't they?" she asked.

The pilot shrugged. "Too busy for some, others are afraid to I think. He's pretty... intense. To be honest we don't see him all that much, when we do he's usually in full combat gear. And everyone else that knows him isn't much better. We rarely see Doctor T'Soni and most people haven't worked up the nerve to approach Garrus either. I figure you might be a little less intimidating."

Since when were people afraid of Shepard? Being afraid of Garrus made sense when she thought about it. Humans, along with asari and quarians for that matter, had at least a small level of instinctual unease around turians that was only overcome by familiarity. The simple fact of the matter was that turians were predators and they acted it, from the way they tended to maintain direct eye contact to the way they moved. Add in the scars Garrus had collected on Omega along with the reputation he'd picked up along the way and she could see a new crew being uneasy around him.

"I see," Tali said finally, processing this new information. "I was good to meet you, ah, Steve. I need to join the rest of my people at the briefing."

"Of course. The war room is on the second deck, it replaced the lab that was just off the CIC."

She nodded in thanks and headed into the elevator. The short ride let her out on the CIC as expected, the room looking much the same as she remembered if a little dimmer, while the security checkpoint in the corridor that had once lead to Mordin's lab was new. The two marines there, the same pair as before in the cargo bay, didn't stop her though. When she hit the door release Tali immediately heard Raan's voice.

"... joining us shortly. As our expert on the geth... I only wished we had listened to her."

_Yes, maybe if you had our people wouldn't be at risk of being made extinct. We might have needed the homeworld to help protect our civilian population if the Fleet went to war with the Reapers... but we didn't even try diplomacy. Not even when I told you all it was possible._

Such thoughts wouldn't help their current situation, though, and Tali pushed them aside. Her duty was to the quarians as a whole and what they needed now was rescue, not accusations. She cleared her throat and spoke, addressing the assembled group. On the other side of the large holographic display she could make out Garrus leaning against a railing and some other alien that she couldn't even identify was standing with its arms behind its back.

"We can't change the past. But we can at least make sure we make up for the mistakes we've made," she said, catching Garrus' gaze as he looked up at her entrance.

Shepard was mostly blocked by the hologram of Rannoch from her point of view but she could already see his form stepping around the display. She did her best to put some humor into her voice rather than the irritation she felt as she continued.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, reporting for duty."

There was a brief moment of silence before Shepard spoke. When he did, stepping fully around the holo display as he did, she was barely able to suppress a small intake of breath at the sight of him.

"Tali... it's... good to see you."

The entire sentence just sounded strained, awkward. Nothing like the Shepard she knew, but then he didn't look the same either. There were dark circles under his eyes and lines where she'd sworn there hadn't been before. The armor he wore looked familiar but it could have been anything under the sea of rents, scrapes, and pock marks that covered the once black surface. A few larger areas of damage, like a large gash across his side, had been sealed with dull gray patches, temporary fixes that had been made permanent.

"It's good to be back," she replied hesitantly. "I assume the rest of the Admirals have told you..."

A frown settled onto his face and he nodded, glancing down at his omni-tool once before looking back up. His tone changed immediately, the familiar calm of Shepard reacting to a problem and addressing it.

"That your people are stuck in your home system, being hunted by the geth fleets? Yes. We're already moving, the Resuca will have to catch up. The Normandy is close to the relay in system already. We'll be able to make the jump to Rannoch within the next few hours."

"Sounds like we've got a plan," Garrus interjected quickly before any of the Admirals could object to the information that they'd just been presented with, turning to Shepard. "I'll get with Traynor and see if we can get the Admirals here somewhere to relax while they're with us, Boss. Come on, Javik. You can help."

"Why would I be interested in the sleeping accommodations of the quarian leadership?" the strange alien asked, tone vaguely bemused. His voice and accent were as odd as his appearance, but there was something strangely familiar about him.

"Because... I said so. Just come on," Garrus sighed. "Think of it as a learning experience."

There was a brief pause before Javik shrugged and followed the turian's lead, urging the Admirals out of the room. As he passed by Garrus dropped a hand to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, along with a quick nod that said they'd be speaking again soon. It all happened quickly enough that Tali didn't quite realize what was going on until she was still standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at Shepard in a now empty war room when the doors shut behind Garrus. Silence hung in the air for a long moment. It seemed that he didn't have any idea what to say either.

"Shepard-"

"Tali, I-"

She shook her head with a rueful laugh, but didn't say anything else, waiting for him to continue.

"So... Admiral?"

It wasn't quite the question she was expecting, but she managed well enough.

"It's mostly just a formality. I'm an expert on the geth... so they appointed me to replace my father."

"Then at least they made one smart decision," Shepard said with a quiet laugh, but there didn't seem to be any genuine amusement there.

She stepped down, moving to place her hands on the console and looked at the hologram of the dreadnought while avoiding his gaze. Doing her best not to look into his eyes because she just wasn't sure how she would react when she did. Politics, missions, those were easy to talk about.

"Maybe not. If they had appointed someone else they could have had the strength to stop this all before it started," she replied bitterly. "We have the largest fleet in the galaxy, we can help you fight the Reapers... but I'm not sure what will be left after this stupid war."

"You voted with Zaal'Koris. Against the war."

It was a statement but she answered anyway.

"After talking with Legion and everything that happened? I thought... just maybe there was a chance for peace. But Xen and her damn countermeasures. I tried to make them see that it was stupid, that she just wanted the chance to fulfill our 'destiny' of controlling the geth..." Tali trailed off with a sigh. "I don't have your way with words, Shepard."

"Your people have had three hundred years to forget the details of the last time you fought the geth. All they remember now is the bitterness of being cast out, not the reality of how it happened. Ambitious fools like Xen are willing to use that for their own ends... but whatever happens it's not your fault, Tali."

His voice was softer now, finally a familiar hint of the warmth that she remembered. The same tone that had told her it would be okay when they found her father's body on the Alarei. Or when he'd said that he didn't care about the mask or the suit. Tali expected, hoped almost, to feel his hand on her shoulder. It would at least force her to make up her mind between anger and want. But the touch never came. She turned to see Shepard watching her from a few feet away, armored fists at his sides clenched tightly.

"We're going to have to talk... about..." she said at last, forcing the words out and doing her best not to stammer. "I mean, the Admirals... they don't really know what happened anyways... but it doesn't matter. Not really, I mean."

Something crossed his eyes, but she couldn't identify it. The moment was just too fast and she saw his mouth settled into that tight line as he clearly clamped down. The Spectre stepped away, onto the stairs before stopping halfway and looking back.

"Don't worry about the Admirals. We'll get your people home safe. I promise you. You might want to check out engineering. A few old friends signed on that I'm sure would be happy to see you."

The words came out before she even thought them.

"And what about you?"

"I... I'm glad you're okay, Tali," he said quietly, not looking at her. "There are a lot of things I wish I could change. I'll call you when we're about to hit the relay."

The young quarian watched in stunned silence as he proceeded up the stairs after that simple statement, stopping just before he hit the door controls to exit the room. Shepard glanced back at her one more time with the barest hint of a smile on his lips, even if it was a mournful one.

"For what it's worth, Tali... I'm sorry. If there's anyone in this galaxy that didn't deserve to be hurt it was you..."

Then he was gone, the doors sliding shut behind him.

* * *

><p>"<em>Bosh'tet<em>!" the quarian growled to herself.

The ride from the CIC down to the engineering deck had only managed to give her time to dwell on the violent rollercoaster that was her emotional state, leaving her at her current stage: anger. Six months and all he'd done is give some threadbare apology and disappear up to his cabin? Tali had briefly considered following after him. One hard punch right across the jaw would make her feel better, she was sure. But in the end she hadn't. Everything just felt... wrong. Like she'd stepped back into a life that didn't fit. Her thoughts were interrupted when the elevator doors opened and she was suddenly assaulted.

"_Aitakattaaa_!"

The sentence was completely incomprehensible to Tali but Kasumi's tight hug translated well enough. Unlike most quarians Tali had always been somewhat more reserved, even standoffish by comparison, but returned the gesture despite her surprise. She looked at the thief, meeting her eyes beneath the hood.

"Kasumi? Your last extranet message..."

"I know, I know," the thief grinned. "But the whole 'hand over the information' plan got a little complicated, Shepard gave me a speech... and here I am. Surprise!"

She couldn't help but smile. "It's good to see you. I was starting to feel like nothing on the Normandy was the same."

"Nothing? Well, I don't get to sleep in the longue anymore... but there's still plenty of stuff that's the same. Big G is still here, for example."

"Big G?" Tali asked, stifling a very unadmiral-like giggle.

"I've been trying on different nicknames. Haven't found one I like yet."

"I'm sure he's thrilled."

Kasumi shrugged, grinning like a cat. "He complains, but secretly I'm sure he loves the attention. So... are we just going to hang out in the elevator? I'm not the only familiar face on this ship."

"Ah, no, I guess we shouldn't," Tali replied, cocking her head at the thief's comment. "Who else is here? I saw Garrus. Captain Nara made a comment about a very 'informal' pilot when he was getting docking clearance for the shuttle, so that means Joker."

The human woman tapped her chin for a moment and flashed another grin. "I could make you keep guessing... but I'm impatient."

She found herself unceremoniously dragged into engineering, only to stop dead when three different humans that she actually recognized all looked up at her. None of which she had ever thought to see again. Much to her chagrin her voice came out far more uneven than she intended.

"Engineer Adams?"

The older man grinned broadly. "Well I'll be damned... Tali'Zorah nar Rayya? You can't be the same little genius that almost put me out of the work on the old SR-1."

"It's... Tali'Zorah vas Normandy now, actually."

"Aye, she got herself all adopted and such. It was quite cute," the second man added in a thick Scottish burr, earning himself a punch in the arm from his female counterpart.

"Ignore Kenneth! Tali, it's so good to see you again!" Gabby said happily. "It just hasn't been the same down here without you... umm, no offense, Lieutenant Adams."

The chief engineer laughed. "None taken... this girl was running circles around the best Alliance techs when she was working for me on her Pilgrimage. I can't imagine what she can do now!"

"Told you it just wasn't just me and Garrus hanging around," Kasumi said.

The next hour disappeared in a blur of technical jargon, catching up, and general conversation that let Tali feel at ease for the first time since setting foot aboard the Normandy again. She'd become friends with the two younger engineers during the Collector mission and a mere six months didn't stop them from picking up just where they left off: mostly calling out Donnelly for bad jokes and off color commentary. Finding Adams there was well only added to the moment. Other than Shepard he had been the first human to welcome her with a complete lack of prejudice aboard the original Normandy, treating her much like he did any of the rest of the engineering staff.

Finally she had let Kasumi lead her away and before she knew it she was back on the crew deck and in the area that the thief had apparently claimed as her own if the familiar books and paintings were any indication.

"Thane's old room wasn't occupied so I took possession," the cheerful woman explained as she sat down on the bed. "No bar, but then it's also not doubling as a the ship's lounge. More privacy."

"It's nice..." she said, looking around. It seemed best not ask how it was that Kasumi managed to transport a small collection of likely stolen items around the galaxy.

"Considering I actually have a sense of aesthetics I'd hope so. Shepard might not decorate with anything other than model ships but I for one think a few good paintings are always in order."

The quarian frowned behind her visor when Shepard's name immediately brought back the same flood of emotions from before Kasumi's well-timed distraction. She did her best to conceal the sudden tension in her stance but apparently the strange little woman she had grown close to had become quite adept at reading quarian body language, tugging at her wrist until she sat on the bed next to her.

"Thought so."

"Thought so what?" Tali replied sourly.

"You're avoiding him. Or he's avoiding you. Or both."

"We... talked. Briefly."

Kasumi pulled back her head and leaned against the wall, giving her a look that clearly stated that she wasn't going to be stonewalled. After a few more moments of holding out, Tali relented, leaning back herself and giving a long sigh.

"I don't know what I was expecting, Kasumi. I don't even know what I wanted to happen. But he just... told me that he was glad that I was okay and something about being sorry he hurt me. And then the _bosh'tet_ just walked out!"

"Maybe he didn't know what to say either?" the thief suggested.

"He's Shepard! He always knows what to say. Ancestors, he talked a crazy turian Spectre into _shooting himself_! Then he leaves me behind, gets locked up, and six months later all he can think of is 'I'm glad you're okay'?"

The human woman laughed softly, shaking her head. "I don't suppose you said any of this to him?"

"I... well... of course not! I mean..." Tali muttered, dropping her head into her hands. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling."

An arm found its way about her shoulders, squeezing her tightly as anger turned to tears of frustration. They were quickly banished, however, and she curled her hands into tight fists.

"He's the one that made the decision to throw himself on the Alliance's mercy. He wouldn't even tell me what really happened after that damned mission. And then I come back and he doesn't even touch me? No, I'm not going to take the blame for this," she said firmly.

Kasumi tapped her visor lightly with one finger, smiling gently. "Nobody is to blame, fishbowl. Well, not for awkward reunions and all that at least. Tali, there's something else you should know..."

Her head snapped to the right, examining every hint of expression on the woman's pale face. Kasumi's lips were drawn tight, the smile was genuine but it wasn't one of happiness, more of reassurance and comfort. Two different Normandys and a relationship with a human lover had taught her a great deal about human facial cues... and she didn't like the ones she saw on her friend's face.

_I know Liara is on the ship but... no, she told me on the Broker's ship, showed me even that it was over between them. After all this he couldn't possibly have turned to her again? Could he? No, Liara wouldn't do that to me... would she?_

"Tell me... it's not Liara, is it?"

"No, Tali. It's Mordin."

The engineer blinked. She hadn't seen Mordin when she had come aboard or heard anyone talking about him. The salarian had been an important part of the mission to stop the Collectors, in reality he was the only reason they had even had a chance. But if he wasn't here...

"Oh no..."

Kasumi squeezed her shoulder. "He died to completing the last mission, Tali. But he did it. He cured the genophage."

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, the suits internal systems already trying to dry them as they fell. She squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment and just sat there, memories of the strange old scientist running through her mind. For all his oddities Mordin had been a kind man. Even the amazingly embarrassing 'interspecies relations' talk Mordin had with her had been handled with the utmost discretion and care. She remembered the small smile on his lips as he told her to 'not waste a moment' in life.

"There's more," her friend continued, letting Tali rest her veiled head on her shoulder.

"We lost someone else?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Not one of the old crew," Kasumi assured her. "But a turian died on Tuchanka as well, the new turian Primarch's son sacrificed himself to keep us all from getting blown to little pieces. It's been a mess, Tali... Shepard tried warning me, but I don't think even Garrus was really prepared for it. The Flotilla has been out of contact so you haven't seen what's been happening."

She looked up now, hearing the strain in Kasumi's voice. Ever since the thief had come aboard the Normandy she had somehow adopted Tali as a friend, but she'd always been the older and more experienced of the pair. She was always ready with advice and a hug... this was the first time Tali had really seen something get to her.

"We got a few of the news reports. Earth and Palaven being hit. I kept wondering if Shepard and Garrus were there, fighting..."

"They were, we actually had to drag Garrus off of Palaven's moon along with the Primarch in the middle of the fighting. Garrus was their 'expert Reaper advisor' apparently."

"Really?"

"Really. It didn't go to his head... too much," Kasumi said with a small laugh. "You're getting me sidetracked, though, fishbowl. What I'm trying to say is that since Shepard worked his charms and got me on this ship we haven't stopped."

"How long?"

"Weeks. And it's taking its toll... even on Garrus. He's dividing his time between worrying about Palaven and worrying about Shepard. And Shepard is... I don't know. Not good. I've barely spoken to him outside of a mission it feels like."

There was a twinge of pain, even guilt, as she remembered the dark circles under Shepard's eyes. She frowned as she thought.

"Kasumi, if you think I can help him... I don't know if I can. He barely even spoke to me and I still just... I don't know. I don't even know how I feel. I thought I had helped him before. That he was happy with... with me..."

The thief cut her off with a shake of her head and another squeeze around the younger girl's shoulders. "He was happy. Shepard looked at you the same way Keiji always looked at me... but you're right, it's not your job to fix Shepard. But I wanted you to know what's been going on. Maybe it'll at least help you understand why he's not acting the same as before you left."

"He wasn't even the same then, not after Bahak," Tali replied quietly.

"No one but Shepard knows exactly what happened. The real question is: do you still love him?"

"I.. I don't know how to feel. I don't know if he still loves me even. What to do I do, Kasumi? I'm responsible for seventeen million quarians and I don't even know what I want. How am I supposed to know what to do for them?"

"I've spent my entire career trying to make sure people don't even know my name," Kasumi said ruefully. "I don't really have any good advice. Boys. Art. Hacking. Those I can do."

She smiled faintly, even if the thief couldn't see it.

"Thanks for trying."

* * *

><p>"Are you certain you should be doing this, Tali? A member of the Admiralty Board-"<p>

"As long as I'm on the Normandy, I'm not just an Admiral. I'm a part of her crew," she said, cutting Raan off but with a gentle tone. "No one knows geth code better than me, not even EDI."

She snapped the armored face plate over her visor, the seals giving a hiss as it settled into place and a detailed HUD sprang up to replace her usual suit interface. The slits in the visor limited her vision significantly in comparison to her traditional face plate but with luck the more advanced sensors would make for the loss. Aboard the Shadow Broker's vessel she had nearly died when the concussive force and shrapnel from the yahg's grenade had shattered the tempered glass of her visor and it wasn't an experience she was going to repeat.

"I just worry that you are eager to go because of... other reasons," the other quarian said with a sigh.

Tali picked up the combat knife from the table and slipped it into sheath on her armored boot. "I'm going because it's where I need to be, Auntie Raan."

"I know, child. May the Ancestors watch over you, Tali'Zorah."

Her aunt's embrace was a brief one before she stepped out of the small cabin and let Tali pass. They rode the elevator in silence and departed the same way. Raan would join the other Admirals in the war room for the duration of the mission while she headed for the cockpit. She found a blue armored turian leaning against the airlock bulkhead waiting for her.

"Well, if it isn't little Tali, come to play," Garrus said, mandibles spreading wide in a turian grin.

"I've still got the shotgun, you big blue bosh'tet," she replied. "Or should I call you 'Big G' now?"

"Spirits... she's already gotten to you. That woman is insufferable. If she's not disappearing in the middle of a conversation she's coming up with the most atrocious names."

"Oh, I'm sure it could be worse... maybe something like-"

"Don't. Even. Say it."

They both laughed, the back and forth feeling like the most natural thing in the world. After a few moments of silence Garrus' expression became more serious and he reached over to give her a pat on the shoulder.

"Good to have you back, though. Wish it was for a better reason but with the way the galaxy is going I shouldn't have expected much better."

She nodded. "At least there was a Normandy for me to come back to. My people might be in danger from the geth but it's still better than fighting the Reapers like on Palaven. Did your family..."

The turian looked away briefly but his voice was level. "I don't know. Communications have been spotty at best. I'm holding onto hope. My father is a stubborn old bastard. Notice that your envirosuit has gotten... sturdier, by the way."

"All that C-Sec training is really paying off," Tali agreed, letting the subject change without complaint. "After what happened with the Broker and knowing what was coming I decided it was time to stop pretending I'm just an engineer anymore. I stopped being that a long time ago."

Most quarians, even marines, were indistinguishable from one another to most observers. Lacking the production facilities of the other races, and never being particularly fond of heavy armor in the first place, as a rule quarians didn't have an equivalent to the thick combat armor utilized by the Turian Hierarchy or Systems Alliance. They tended to rely upon modded, increased capacity kinetic barriers and quick assaults to avoid injury. This tactical mindset had worked for the past few centuries for the most part. But the extent of quarian ground operations had also previously been limited to the occasional battle with pirates or small, covert operations like Freedom's Progress or Haestrom.

Tali had stop being just an engineer as soon as she set foot on the Normandy over three years ago, though it had taken the majority of her time aboard to make her admit it. Typical ship's engineers didn't have hundreds of hours of combat experience or knowledge of a dozen different types of small arms. They certainly didn't have more geth kills on record than any individual since the Morning War. And they hadn't seen their teams die, one by one, under the crushing feet of a hacked heavy mech or to the unrelenting gunfire of a platoon of geth. Now she was finally dressed like what she was: a woman that was as much warrior as she was technician.

"Looks good," Garrus commented, eyeing the upgrades appreciatively. If it had been anyone else she might have felt embarrassed by his lingering gaze, but it wasn't anyone else. It was Garrus. "Did you modify a Serrice model chest plate for the upper body?"

"It was the best fit I could find, they don't exactly make this stuff for quarians. Everything else is custom tooled... nothing as heavy as what you wear but if my shields go down I'm not completely vulnerable anymore."

"Good. We don't need to lose you to a lucky shot."

There was another long silence, once again broken by Garrus.

"You know that he made me the XO?"

She cocked her head.

"I... guess it makes sense. Miranda had the position before, but no one has heard from her in months."

"He didn't even tell me. I only found out from Traynor when she asked me to sign some kind of requisition form yesterday," the turian explained. "She hadn't be able to get Shepard on the CIC long enough to do it. When I asked her why she wanted me to sign it she said that it had to be done by either to commanding officer or the executive officer."

Garrus crossed his arms and bumped his fringe back into the metal bulkhead with a laugh.

"A turian executive officer on a Systems Alliance ship. If the galaxy wasn't already falling apart that would have been the political shitstorm of the century. As soon as I saw the official documentation I could just hear Udina's voice in the back of my mind, ranting away."

"He trusts you, Garrus," she said simply. "He always has... what's wrong with promoting you? Aside from the fact that you're not human or part of the Alliance, of course."

"Just the way he did it. I hacked the database. It's not hard at the moment with no one paying attention. It's all there, Spectre authorizations and Alliance documents. Every detail. He didn't just make me the Normandy's XO, Tali. He made me his second in everything. He's even got paperwork in there signed off by the damn Council."

"The Council?"

"Yea," the turian nodded, scratching behind his fringe. "I don't know how he did it, but he did. If Shepard... doesn't make it back from a mission then everything turns over to me. Including his authority as a Spectre. All of his assets, private files... everything. And some of the things that happened on Tuchanka, the things he said..."

She stared at him in wide eyed astonishment. It didn't even seem possible, but when she thought about it things fell into place. Spectre's answered only to the Council, and if the Council signed off on whatever Shepard had set up then it would all be perfectly legal. And in the middle of a war it wasn't like anyone was going to have time to contest it. Little pieces began to fall into place, things that Kasumi had told her while they waited for the call.

"Keelah, Garrus... you can't mean..."

"He didn't just make me his XO, Tali," the turian said darkly. "He made me his damned replacement."

* * *

><p>Hackett's voice actually sounded shocked. He had long wondered just what it would take to shake that calm, grizzled exterior. At least now he could say he knew. Within the comm room he was looking at three holographic forms, each relayed from somewhere else in the galaxy. Similar expressions were on the other two faces, the Alliance admiral was just the first to speak.<p>

"Shepard, what you're proposing... it's beyond extreme. It's insane."

"No, it's all too sane. Logical even," he replied, shaking his head.

"I can't believe I'm saying this... but Shepard is right. It is logical. Utterly ruthless, but logical," Victus agreed.

The Admiral and Primarch were joined by the fourth, and newest, member of what he was beginning to think of as the War Council. There had been some initial hesitance but Shepard had made it clear that Wrex had earned his place at the table. Considering the thousands of krogan on their way to reinforce a faltering Palaven there wasn't much Victus or Hackett could counter with.

"Hrmph," the krogan muttered. "This is the kind of plan I'd have expected from the likes of Okeer, Shepard, not you."

"I don't think Anderson would approve either," Hackett added.

The Spectre shrugged. "Maybe not, but we have to face the facts... we're not even fighting a war at the moment. We're fighting a delaying action. We have plans for a super weapon that we don't even know what it does and that we can't build until we find a safe location that the Reapers can't simply overrun."

"Are your estimates of our chances really that grim, Commander?" Victus asked.

"I can't even begin to estimate our chances," he replied tiredly. "We've been fighting for weeks and we still don't have an accurate estimate on their numbers."

Hackett sighed heavily. "And you really think this plan would work? Would it be worth the... horror of what we'd be doing? The sacrifice?"

"I don't know," Shepard admitted, locking eyes with each of the men in turn. "What I do know is that one way or the other is that we've come too far to just follow the protheans into a slow death, being harvested world by world. If our cycle is going to end... then we should choose how it ends. Not them."

"That's at least a proper krogan sentiment," Wrex agreed.

The aging human admiral first looked to his turian counterpart and then to Wrex, finally nodding. Shepard knew what he was proposing and so did they. He could see it each of their eyes. None of these men were diplomats or scholars. They were old soldiers that had seen all the horrors of war only to find new ones at the hands of the Reapers. Men like that knew what it meant to make a decision that could never be washed away by drink or prayer.

"We have the resources, especially after our finds on Tuchanka and elsewhere. I'll begin preparations and selections... this isn't something we can leave to chance," Hackett finally said with great resignation.

"God help us all."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure about this, Joker?" Tali asked.<p>

"I'm sure because EDI is sure. Uh... right, EDI?"

"Of course, Jeff. The minor structural damage to this area of the geth dreadnought provides the only access to the vessel's interior structure that will not immediately alert the geth to the presence of the infiltration team," the AI explained.

EDI having a body was just one more shock to add to a day that was rapidly spiraling out of control. Seeing Shepard, then Kasumi telling her about Mordin's death. Garrus' revelation. Now the AI, the thing that she had trusted least when she had first come aboard the SR-2, had a fully combat capable, humanoid platform. She did actually trust EDI now, but it was still unnerving.

"So what part of that explanation required Shepard to go alone?" Garrus inquired dryly.

"None. The docking connector, however, is heavily damaged and devoid of atmosphere or artificial gravity. Commander Shepard decided that he would access the airlock alone rather than risk multiple team members crossing the damaged section."

Her fingers gripped the back of Joker's pilot seat tightly, ignoring the look of annoying on the pilot's face at the jostling, as they watched Shepard's slow progress across the empty docking tube. A faint vibration passed through the ship and Tali sucked in a breath. A piece of the docking tube's metal frame had broken away in front of the Spectre, forcing him to stop before almost stepping into the sudden void.

"The Commander's vital signs have spiked," EDI stated with a level of calm only a synthetic was capable of. "I will alert Dr. Chakwas, but should he suffer injury during while crossing the vacuum exposed area it will be difficult to reach him."

Tali turned away from the display and took a few steps out of the cockpit, frantically tapping buttons. She had been angry at Shepard for everything that had happened. But she also remembered waking up in the middle of the night as he had jerked out of a dream, gasping for air. Those dreams he had told her about, the constant loop, relieving his death in space over Alchera. Now she could only hope that he hadn't bothered to change his codes in all those months.

She stabbed a key and spoke quietly. "Shepard?"

"Tali?"

He sounded surprised and a little out of breath.

"Yes, it's me. Are you... okay?"

"I..." he hesitated and she heard him swallow even over the comm. "I'm fine. Just a little setback."

"I know better than that. I can hear it in your voice."

The quarian looked over her shoulder, saw him moving forward again slowly on the monitor. At least he wasn't free floating; the magnetic boots of his armor let him stick to the metallic surface of the ship. Using the magnification function on her new visor she was able to see the small readout on EDI's screen showing Shepard's heart rate and blood pressure, both far too high for a human. When he didn't answer she let some of the anger she had felt earlier seep into her voice.

"Dammit, John, talk to me!"

"Sorry, I'm not good at small talk while I'm walking around in a damn vacuum."

She sighed, but a small smile appeared on her lips. "You seem to manage just fine while you're being shot at. What's a little lack of atmosphere compared to that?"

"It's not a little lack of atmosphere that bothers me... it's the complete lack of it," Shepard replied tersely.

"Then just talk to me and ignore that part."

"About what?"

_About what exactly happened on that asteroid? About what's been happening to you since Earth was attacked? Why you left me behind on the Citadel?_

Tali bit her tongue, however, and did her best to sound casual. "Anything. Kasumi told me you found a prothean in a box?"

That actually earned her a strained laugh. "It was a little more complicated than that."

"I figured as much. She told me his name was Prothy the Prothean but I think she was... what did you call it? 'Pulling my leg'?"

She continued to watch the monitor now as they spoke. In her ear she could hear Shepard take a deep breath and disengage his boots, jumping across another damaged section of the tube before landing on his feet.

"Javik. His name is Javik," Shepard said finally. "That... nickname probably isn't a good idea. He's not really the joking type."

"I'll remember that."

When she looked back again Garrus was looking at her quizzically before finally catching on. The turian gave her a small grin and a nod. She returned the gesture and opened the channel to Shepard once more.

"Tell me about Wrex... she said something about him having a girlfriend?"

* * *

><p>The airlock slid open and the two armored forms slipped inside, guns already in hand, but were greeted only by Shepard. He was waiting just inside with his own pistol in hand and wearing the same much abused armor she had seen him wearing in the war room. With the helmet on Tali realized it was the same model as the old silver armor that she had said made him look like a <em>baelen'sor<em>.

"Next time ask me if I want to tag along before you go space walking," Garrus said as soon as the door closed behind him.

Shepard's helmet turned towards the turian. "I'll take it under advisement. Tali, the signal seems to be broadcasting from the main reactor core. We need a route and you're our geth expert."

"Give me a second," she muttered, opening her omni-tool and kneeling next to the wall.

It was easy to fall back into old patterns. The hesitation and uncertainty of just minutes ago were gone from Shepard's voice and she responded immediately to his order. It was how their little team had always worked together, her tearing through security systems and consoles while he and Garrus watched over their position with lethal efficiency. They would solve one problem and move on to the next, usually dealing with obstacles in an explosive manner. This mission was no different in that respect.

Tali yanked the bulkhead panel away and scanned the port with her omni-tool directly. She glanced up at the pair.

"That's two anomalies that I'm certain the geth detected, first the airlock and now my accessing their systems. That's enough to put them on alert. As soon as I disengage the first blast door they're going to know we're here."

"Then it had better be a really good route. As soon as you open the door we're moving. Don't stop until we hit the next blast door... we can't afford to get pinned down or they'll overwhelm us," the Spectre ordered. "After we make it past each junction you're going to lock it down behind us, just like the Collector base."

"Those doors won't open again if I lock them in a way the geth can't just override. We won't be able to follow our path back if we wanted to," she pointed out.

Garrus nodded thoughtfully. "We wouldn't be able to even if the doors weren't sealed. The geth are going to be pouring in behind us, no way we could fight through that many of them. Starting to wish we'd brought some more firepower, Shepard. Javik and Vega, for example."

"Too much heat. Even with full seals we're bleeding excess heat. More bodies means more heat, easier for their internal sensors to track and the sooner they'd notice us."

"Right. So we do it the hard way," the turian said.

Shepard pulled a shotgun from his back and flicked the activation switch, unfolding the weapon in his hands. It was a menacing looking piece of hardware, far bulkier than her Eviscerator. When it had fully extended she saw the small glowing munitions indicator light. High density penetrator rounds. He had come prepared for dealing with geth at least.

"We always do it the hard way, Garrus," he said. "Time to move. You're on counter-sniper duty. Tali, getting through their security is your number one priority. I'll take out anything in between."

"Got it. I uploaded the ship schematic to your omni-tools."

Garrus nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."

She activated her omni-tool once more and sent a surge through the geth sub-system, followed by a burst of malicious code, quickly overwhelming the locking mechanism. The doors opened without a sound and they took off at a controlled run. In the airless passageways of the dreadnought their footsteps made no sound except for the dull echo without their own armor. Shepard slid to a stop at the first intersection and swung around the corner with his shotgun raised.

No immediate shot followed after; clearly the geth hadn't been able to close on their position as rapidly as she had feared. When he looked to her she merely pointed to her right, indicating their path. One more intersection without incident and another sprint down a silent corridor brought them to the next blast door.

"This entire ship just feels… off," Garrus complained over the comm.

"The geth design with more abstract geometrics. The measurements and shapes aren't anything an organic would ever create," she explained absently while hacking through the geth's security firewall. "Just be glad they still have the same general body shape as when we originally made them. Otherwise their ships might not even have had proper corridors."

"Hostiles!"

Shepard's barked warning cut off any response from the turian. The shotgun in his hands bucked and she looked to her left, seeing a geth platform fall backwards with a gaping hole just below its neck.

"I've got the door! Go!" she yelled.

Sporadic bursts from geth pulse rifles assaulted their position as they dove through the opening blast door. Running another program through the geth systems, she closed the door and set it on an infinite loop of diagnostic procedures buried within thousands of lines of garbage code.

"More new friends," Garrus said quickly. "I don't think we're being stealthy anymore."

The turian's sniper rifle pointed the first out, a round piercing the single glowing optic of a trooper. Even as they ran she could see more of the silvery platforms coming from the various side passages along the main corridor, rounds skipping off their barriers. Tali quickly emptied her own shotgun's thermal clip into the nearest clump of enemy platforms. The damage wasn't crippling but it drove them back.

Garrus snapped off another shot as they slid into cover at the next blast door. The support braces around the door at least provided enough protection to shield them from the majority of the enemy's fire. The geth response time might not have been quite instantaneous but they had arrived with overwhelming force.

"This is going to get bad fast," she said. "I'm showing signals pinging from all over the ship."

"Just get the door open," Shepard ordered. "If we don't shut down that signal your people are going to get cut to pieces by the geth fleet."

"You think I don't know that?" Tali snapped, frantically tapping at her omni-tool.

The Spectre pumped the shotgun and a spent thermal clip sailed through the air, quickly replaced by a fresh one.

"I know you do. You should have stayed on the Normandy with the other Admirals. I could have brought EDI."

"You said it yourself, if we fail my entire race dies! If that happens then at least I'll die with them!"

With each firewall the geth programs adapted, gaining greater resistance to her hacks. One last virus penetrated the geth defenses at last and the lock disengaged. Suddenly she felt Shepard's hand on her arm, pulling her to her feet and forcing her attention to his armored visage.

"I will not let that happen! Not now, not ever! Now move!"

Shepard yanked a grenade from his belt and threw it towards the approaching geth before throwing himself through the closing door. Just like the others she locked this one down, sealing it behind them in such a way that the geth would have to manually force it open to reset the protocols. There was no time to catch their breath but she couldn't help but glance at Shepard as they ran.

For a brief moment she'd heard conviction and passion in his voice with the simple declaration. It was like her Shepard appeared for an instant and then faded away just as quickly. None of it mattered at the moment, though. Stopping the Reaper signal was the only thing that was important now. One more blast door and they'd be at the main reactor.

"Pyro! Get down!" Garrus yelled, pushing her aside as a gout of flame poured into the space they had just occupied.

The hard impact knocked the air from her lungs but she kept a grip on the shotgun in her hands, pumping fire into the geth's lower legs. Her Eviscerator's buzzing shrapnel took the platform out at the knees and sent it toppling down, giving Garrus time to double tap it in the head with his rifle. A second of the flamethrower wielding units emerged from the opposite direction, only to have Shepard roll under its attack and knock the geth's weapon upwards. When she heard the deafening boom of the shotgun blasting a hole in the platform Tali realized the geth had even purposefully pumped oxygen into the room just so the pyros' flamethrowers would work.

Garrus picked himself up. "For the love of the spirits, why do they have platforms armed with flamethrowers on their own ship?"

"They're controlled by the Reapers now," Shepard said. "And the Reapers would expect something like this. That's why there are so many armed platforms here so quickly. There's only a few ships in the galaxy that could have gotten close enough to dock undetected."

"If they were expecting you..." Tali said, trailing off.

"Then there's a whole lot more on their way," Garrus finished.

The last door was, as expected, even more frustrating than the last but this close to the core there were far fewer passageways and access points for the geth to utilize. The tight killzone gave Shepard and Garrus the advantage they needed to keep the geth platforms away while she dealt with the internal security. Thanks to the geth filling the passage with oxygen she was able to hear the deep boom of Shepard's shotgun behind her, Garrus' rifle making a perfect partner as they alternated shots with the occasional burst of static discharge when one of the pair sent an overload pulse into their synthetic enemies.

"It's open! All we have to do is take the elevator down five decks!" she said in triumph as the door opened to reveal a circular platform big enough to land a Kodiak on. What passed for an elevator among the geth it seemed.

Shepard slapped Garrus on the shoulder, the turian lowering his rifle and moving into the elevator before taking up a position covering them both. The Spectre ushered her inside before following himself. As soon as the doors shut she triggered the elevator to descend.

"I remember geth being much easier to kill than this," Garrus sighed.

She shrugged. "They're under Reaper control, it seems to increase their effectiveness considerably."

"Well, that control will end shortly."

"Yes, it will," she agreed, her tone becoming softer. "You're out here saving quarians again... seems like a habit of yours, Shepard."

The glowing red visor didn't turn towards her when he spoke, voice oddly distant.

"I've got too much to make up for to ever balance my ledger. All I can do is try."

Tali stared at the back of his head, trying to decipher that cryptic statement and once again feeling frustrated. It wasn't as if the entire crew was listening in. The only other person in the elevator was Garrus, the one member of the team that had been with him longer than Tali, even if only by a matter of hours. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't just talk to her and she was getting tired of it.

"What-"

Her question was cut off when an explosion sent her sprawling. Even through the quarian could feel the force and heat of the blast, immediately thankful for her upgraded armor. When she looked up her gaze fixated on a balefully glowing optic, identifying the rocket launcher that was perched on its shoulder. On instinct she lashed out with her omni-tool, sending a pulse of energy through the weapon that caused it to overload. The geth platform didn't even have time to drop the weapon before it detonated. Beneath her Tali felt the platform shudder uneasily even as it continued to descend. There were over twenty decks below them, straight down through the dreadnought's core.

"We've got to get off! Right now!"

The sound of rending metal filled her ears and the platform began to shake even harder before finally slamming to a stop at a slight angle. Tali pulled herself up onto the deck plating, Garrus leaping up after her. Then she realized Shepard wasn't already there. Looking over her shoulder she saw him shaking his head and climbing to his feet, knocked down by the abrupt stop and trying to keep his balance as the platform began to wobble.

"Shepard!" she yelled.

Clearly the Spectre was aware of the danger, his booted feet slamming into the elevator's grated floor as he ran for the edge. Another piercing shriek of metal giving way filled the shaft and the platform dipped, falling from beneath Shepard's feet. In an instant she was back on the Collector base, watching him sail through the air, her mind already filling in the gaps. Seeing that he didn't have enough momentum to carrying him the entire way.

Tali knew, in that moment, what she wanted. It all came in a rush as she lunged forward. He was still her Shepard, still the man that had been doing his best to protect her ever since he'd found her in an alleyway corned by assassins. She couldn't live through his death again. No matter what had happened, what he wouldn't or couldn't say.

She felt hard, cold metal under her fingertips and clamped down. A massive weight suddenly yanked her towards the abyss that opened up as the elevator platform tumbled towards, only stopped by an iron grip from Garrus. She yelled out in pain but kept her hold, letting the stronger turian drag both of them bodily upwards as Shepard did his best to scramble for purchase against the shaft's smooth sides. Then he was up, dragging himself over the side as she finally let go and leaned back, squeezing her aching shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

It was all she could do not to laugh incredulously behind her visor, seeing his gaze turn towards her shoulder. The first words out of his mouth were not relief for his own survival, but worrying about someone that hadn't almost died. Such a stubborn idiot of a man. Tali nodded slowly.

"I am now."

Shepard helped her to her feet, managing to look at her quizzically even from behind his helmet.

"Then are you ready storm one more gate to hell and end this?"

"We're right behind you, Shepard."

Tali glanced over at Garrus, seeing the turian give her a nod.

"Always."

* * *

><p><em>Well to make up for the lack of Tali, I figured I'd give you all a 90% Tali POV chapter ;)<em>

_Keep an eye out, as I now have a very gracious artist working on some cover art for Razor's Edge as well as the edited and cleaned up versions of the older stories in the works. Hopefully sometime towards the end of the month or beg of August I can get those all rolled out at once in all their glory!_


	14. Chapter 13: Promises

Chapter 13: Promises

"Clear," Garrus said, his flanged voice strained.

Shepard ejected yet another spent thermal clip from his shotgun and reloaded while scanning the room where geth platforms lay scattered in a haphazard fashion. The geth hadn't been able to get many units to the main core before Tali's overrides had locked down most of the pathways, allowing them to quickly dispatch any remaining opposition. At his feet the lifeless optic of a fallen platform looked up at him, the dull lens somehow looking accusatory in the dim light of the dreadnought.

He frowned. "I'm not going to feel guilty over bloody machines..."

"What was that, Boss?"

"Nothing," he replied, changing the subject. "Is this the source of our signal?"

Tali knelt next to a large central column, glancing over her shoulder to give him a quick nod.

"Definitely. It looks like the main transmitter is right over here. Just give me a minute to override the blast shielding they have around it."

The engineer was already hacking her way past the geth defenses and in the silence Shepard couldn't help but watch her, everything from the way she set her shoulders when she was working on a difficult problem to her matter of fact delivery was achingly familiar. For a brief moment he had been certain that his luck had run out in the elevator shaft when he felt the platform disappear from beneath his feet. It had been a terrifying moment of panic and adrenaline, those eternal seconds where time seemed to stop and everything was clear. Shepard had even come to a kind of acceptance as he felt himself fall, the edge of the deck too far away for him to reach. But those three strong fingers had held him fast, refusing to let go. Memories of his desperate jump aboard the Collector base were all too fresh in his mind.

All he'd wanted to do since she'd stepped into the war room aboard the Normandy was wrap his arms around her suited form and hold on tightly. Just to taste of the familiar warmth and comfort they had once shared for a brief moment. Shepard knew it was just a fantasy, though. He'd broken the promise he'd made to her and so many others. In a different time, a different place, just maybe he could have found happiness with his beautiful quarian. But this wasn't that time. The galaxy needed someone to guide them out of the darkness, no matter the consequences. Not a bleeding heart, but someone to bleed, drop by drop, to make sure that in the end there was someone left to remember what they'd lost.

"I've got it!" the machinist cried in triumph. "Now to see what the geth have been using to boost the power of the Reaper signal..."

Shepard shook his head, driving away the musings that threaten to draw him into a dark spiral and instead hefting the shotgun in his grip. Now wasn't the time to lose focus. Their mission was too important. He saw Tali press a key on her omni-tool and then the armored shields around the cylinder snapped open, eliciting a startled gasp from each of them.

"Spirits, is that..."

A glowing optic winked to life and swiveled to fix its gaze on him.

"Shepard-Commander?"

"Legion?" he asked, still not believing what he was seeing.

The geth was strung up like it was in an medieval torture device, arms over its head and legs spread, hands and feet both locked in place. There was no mistaking the gaping hole in the geth's chest or the N7 armor that had been used to repair some of the damage. There was an almost plaintive note in the geth's voice.

"Affirmative. We request assistance!"

"Damn, I don't want to be the one to suggest this but... if the geth are under Reaper control..." Garrus trailed off.

"We understand your caution. This platform will submit to any restraints you deem necessary once we are free. Our network architecture is being utilized to transmit a Reaper control signal to all active geth platforms."

"We'll get you out," he agreed. "You fought the Reapers before, I can't imagine you'd join them now, right?"

"This is correct," Legion explained while Shepard and Tali both worked at different consoles. "When the Creators attacked there was significant difficulty in arriving at consensus. The runtimes within this platform... did not reach a similar consensus as the Collective. This platform's unique construction and enhanced transmission hardware was deemed the most viable method of increased signal transmission."

"So they captured you? I didn't think the geth could disagree," Tali said. "But... as much as I can't believe I'm saying this: it's good to see you, Legion, and I'm glad you're still on our side."

"We thank you for your assistance, Creator Zorah."

"But how? You're a group mind. How could you go against the consensus?" Garrus demanded, echoing the question that had already formed in the Spectre's mind.

There was a brief pause while Legion's optic focused and unfocused on each of them.

"No data available."

Shepard sighed, releasing another lock. "That's not an answer, Legion."

"We lack sufficient information to provide a valid hypothesis."

"Then give me your best guess!"

"Geth do not... guess, Shepard-Commander."

"First time for everything. I've got most of the hardware blocks removed," Shepard said.

Tali's fingers were flying across the haptic interface. "Same here. Legion, just provide the basis for a possible hypothesis. There must be something you can provide as a reason?"

"This platform... designated 'Legion' by Shepard-Commander and the Normandy crew..." the machine attempted to explain, actually hesitating as it spoke. "This platform reached an internal consensus before the Collective as a whole. We could not then agree to the Collective's course of action. An internal runtime error prevented compliance."

Shepard slapped the release button as soon as Legion finished speaking, convinced by the geth's answer. The locks around the it's hands and feet opened with a hiss.

"Congratulations, Legion. We organics call it a conscience, welcome to the club."

The geth removed itself from the harness that was holding it within the transmitter, leaping to the floor and landing in a crouch. Around them lights and consoles flickered, the room going almost dark for a moment before the dim glow returned. As Legion stood its optic looked at him quizzically, the flaps around the glowing circle seeming to flutter.

"We do not understand."

"Someday you will," Shepard assured him. "I just hope it's for the better."

"This discussion would be fascinating if there weren't armed geth coming to kill us," Garrus interjected. "We need an exit plan."

Tali shook her head. "I'm trying to find the nearest airlock the Normandy could manage a pick up. There are geth everywhere... though the loss of the signal seems to have left them in disarray."

"We have disabled the dreadnought's main core, approximate time to re-initialize: fifteen minutes, eight seconds. This window of time is consistent with time needed to navigate the vessel to a docking collar three decks above on the vessel's starboard side."

"Thanks, Legion. And the signal is completely cut off?" the quarian asked.

"Negative. Geth units on Rannoch's surface are still connected to the primary signal, but all orbiting and in system vessels are no longer receiving the signal," Legion explained. "Current capability to re-establish signal strength is unknown, but it should be assumed that units on the surface will be able to synthesize a solution."

The Spectre opened his omni-tool and accessed the secure channel provided to him by the admirals.

"We don't need forever, just long enough for the fleet to make it to the relay. Admiral Han'Gerrel, do you copy? This is Commander Shepard."

A few moments of silence felt like they lasted forever until an answer came over the comm. He remembered Gerrel's voice as well as the other admirals from Tali's trial, a deeper baritone than most other quarians.

"I copy, Shepard... we've engaged a small scouting fleet. We're... by the Ancestors! The countermeasures are working again and the geth ships are moving erratically."

"Sudden loss of the upgrade signal will force programs to consolidate for numerous tasks," Legion agreed. "Geth platforms and vessels will no longer be able to withstand the quarian electronic countermeasures."

"Then our job is done. Get your people out of here, Admiral. We're on our way to our exit point," Shepard said, turning to Legion and shoving the shotgun into the synthetic's grip. "Let's go."

"We do not have favorable performance experience with shotguns," Legion replied. "They are... inefficient."

If he hadn't known better Shepard would have thought that the geth sounded almost disdainful of the weapon. It was enough to coax at least a threadbare smile to his lips. Each time they encountered one another Legion seemed to have more hints at being something greater than just an intelligent collection of code and collective consciousness.

"Improvisation, another fun organic trick you get to learn," Garrus said with a laugh.

Shepard drew the pistol from his hip and nodded at the other three to proceed. The first door presented them with half a dozen standard issue geth platforms but not one of them even managed to fire before being cut down. Clearly the loss of the Reaper upgrade had hit them hard, reducing them to slow, ungainly machines while they tried to adapt. Their internal defenses apparently fared no better as Tali was able to disable the next three they encountered with a single overload burst from her omni-tool.

They made it up two decks when everything went wrong at once. The dreadnought shook like a tin can in a windstorm, knocking them all to the floor with the exception of Legion. Overhead the lights flickered erratically. He rolled to his feet quickly and helped Tali up, each one of them gripping the walls tightly for support.

"What was that?" Tali demanded.

Legion's flaps wavered up and down rapidly.

"Sensors indicate the dreadnought is under attack."

"Joker! Report!" Shepard barked.

"Wasn't me, Commander!" the pilot replied immediately, voice frantic. "The damn quarians just jumped in and opened fire! Taking evasive action!"

"The... quarians?"

"Weren't they supposed to be running for a relay? As in the entire point of this mission?" Garrus asked.

Apparently Tali was just as shocked, her omni-tool aglow as she accessed the fleet's secure channel.

"Admiral Gerrel! This is Admiral Tali'Zorah, what are you doing?"

The warship shook again, forcing them all to grab onto the nearest stable object to keep their footing. A few of the small glowing lights exploded in a shower of sparks as power conduits overloaded before the shaking stopped. Gerrel's voice echoed through the now silent corridor.

"Finishing this! We lost over a dozen ships in the initial assault, two more since we've been avoiding the geth patrols. Their defenses are down and our countermeasures are working! With their programming in disarray we can destroy their flagship and their fleet with a single attack!"

"The flagship that we're still on!" Tali yelled. "We can't lose more of our people throwing ourselves against the geth!"

"This is war, Tali'Zorah. I don't expect you to understand."

The channel went dead. Shepard cursed and turned to Legion.

"We need escape pods, the Normandy won't be able to dock with a battle going on outside!"

"Geth do not use 'escape pods', Shepard-Commander."

"There has to be some way off of this damned ship."

"Possible alternative: there is a hangar bay approximately four hundred meters ahead. Geth fighters are larger than those used by the Systems Alliance or Migrant Fleet. Three organics should be able to fit within the cargo area."

"Then that's our plan, go!"

They ran for all they were worth, but with each direct hit the dreadnought suffered they were forced to stop or risk tumbling over. Tali was breathing heavily when she spoke.

"Legion... how long... before they geth adapt to the loss of..." the quarian trailed off, grunting as she rode out another buck of the deck plating before continuing. "To the loss of the upgrades?"

"If processes attempt to reintegrate normally, approximately eight minutes. A direct reupload of backup programs from before the Reaper code upgrade would be more efficient, however, and allow all geth units to return to baseline functionality within four minutes, eighteen seconds. Creator electronic countermeasures will remain effective, but the number of operational geth in orbit will limit their ability to disable larger geth vessels."

"Keelah..." the quarian gasped.

"Just keep running! I'll deal with Gerrel," Shepard ordered. "EDI, get me Han'Gerrel back on the line!"

"Attempting... he is refusing the connection, Shepard," the AI informed him.

"I wasn't asking you to be polite!"

"Understood. Overriding communications protocols. Enabling auditory systems aboard the Neema and locking them out. You now have a direct line to the bridge."

Shepard slammed his back against the bulkhead and waited while Tali and Legion hacked the controls for the blast door leading to the hangar. The dreadnought continued to rock, likely from lighter mass driver rounds impacting its barriers. He activated his comm.

"Admiral Gerrel!"

"What... Shepard? How did you-"

"Shut up! The geth fleet has lost the Reaper signal but they will be back to their normal full strength in less than five minutes when they upload their base coding!" he barked. "The main gun on this dreadnought will tear your ships to pieces when that happens, countermeasures or not!"

"In five minutes time we can decimate the geth! Fives minutes to turn the tide of this war in our favor!" Gerrel shot back and continued what was clearly an address to the fleet. "The geth fleet will be returning to functional strength within minutes. All ships, target the dreadnought! We must destroy that vessel before they can bring its full power to bear!"

Shepard's eyes widened behind his helmet. The quarian wasn't going to just throw his fleet at the geth, he was going to specifically destroy the ship they were on. Finally the two techs overrode the door and they ran into the hangar even as he was still speaking to the admiral.

"Are you insane? We're still aboard! One of your own admirals is still aboard!"

"Tali'Zorah might not understand, but I expected you to as a soldier, Commander," the quarian said. "In war sacrifices must be made for the greater good. I promised my people a home, Shepard. Tell me you wouldn't make the same decision in my place."

"You were the one that fought for Tali at her trial. You were her father's best friend! You can't just kill her!"

To his credit, Gerrel's voice at least sounded remorseful. "Some sacrifices... are greater than others."

"Damn you!"

The ship lurched violently and the artificial gravity disappeared abruptly. Legion launched itself ahead, onto a nearby platform where one of the insect-like geth fighters awaited. Thankfully their momentum was carrying them in the right direction. Tali was floating, wildly trying to push herself in the right direction before Legion gripped her ankle and drew her to the deck. The young machinist clearly stiffened at the contact but didn't protest. Garrus was able to grip the side of the platform and drag himself up.

"Beginning start up sequence, Shepard-Commander," Legion informed him as he activated his magnetic boots and secured himself to the platform.

"How long?"

"Warm up time is one minute, forty eight point six seconds."

"Everyone in," Shepard said. "Tali, get on the line to the Normandy. We need the other Admirals to override Han'Gerrel's orders!"

"On it!"

"Shepard-Commander. The dreadnought's barriers are failing. We will attempt to accelerate the startup sequence," Legion warned.

The geth pushed himself through the void to what the Spectre could only assume was the pilot's seat of the ship, gesturing for the others to follow him. Garrus' long limbs let him easily drag himself into the cramped cockpit area, reaching out to drag Tali in as well. Judging the distance Shepard deactivated the magnetics on his boots and prepared to push himself over to the waiting fighting.

A bright flash caused his visor to go opaque and Shepard suddenly felt himself slam against the nearby console. Something impacted his helmet with a resounded crack that sent his head spinning. In a flash he was over Alchera once more. He reached to his neck frantically only to find his airlines still intact beneath the armored layer of his suit. He forced himself to focus and sucked in a deep breath, wrenching himself bodily out of his memories and opening his eyes. His visor had cleared, showing a gaping breach in the warship's hull a few dozen meters away. Bits and pieces of scrap floated through the void in the hangar.

He took another deep breath before speaking. "T-Tali... the admirals. Did you get them?"

"I have Admiral Koris! Shepard, get in here! We have to go!"

Before Shepard could think about it for too long he launched himself up, grabbing the side of geth fighter firmly and looking inside at the quarian within.

"Well?"

A burst of static caused him to wince, providing him with his answer when Admiral Shala'Raan's voice followed after.

"All quarian vessels. This is Admiral Shala'Raan, Patrol Fleet: Cease all attacks and retreat to the Relay!"

"This is Admiral Zaal'Korris, Civilian Fleet, follow Admiral Raans orders and begin a full retreat!"

"What are you fools doing? The Heavy Fleet will be cut to pieces without support!" Han'Gerrel roared over the comm channel.

"Then I suggest you cover our retreat and follow, Admiral Gerrel."

That was clearly Daro'Xen from the tone, so cold he could almost see frost forming on the auditory pick-ups. There were further sounds of violent disagreement but finally Gerrel's voice, tight with anger, echoed over the fleet-wide comm.

"Heavy Fleet, cover the retreat of the Civilian Fleet and prepare to disengage."

Legion's optic turned from its position in the fighter to look at him.

"Shepard-Commander, this craft is ready to depart. Dreadnought structural integrity is severely compromised and additional fire could result in catastrophic damage. Recommend that all organics depart immediately."

"You don't have to tell me twice..." he muttered, switching over to the Normandy's frequency. "Joker, we're coming in hot in a geth fighter. Mind your fire!"

"Aye aye, Commander. Just... do a barrel roll or something so I know it's you."

The geth fighter was cramped to say the least. He was forced to climb over Garrus' form and wedge himself into the cargo area behind the pilot's console. As soon as he was in the canopy snapped shut and the fighter lurched. Tali's hand grabbed his arm and pulled him down, shifting so that he was stuck right next to her, thigh to thigh, arm to arm. Acceleration pinned them both back when the fighter rocketed away from the damaged dreadnought.

One more mission. One more success. The tightness in his chest relaxed ever so slightly, even as he tried to ignore the feeling of Tali pressed against his side and did his best not to look at her. No reason to let adrenaline and the heart in his throat make him do something stupid that would only cause more pain later. No matter how much he wanted to pull her closer.

Instead Shepard clung tightly to the anger, bubbling like molten steel in his veins. He had given up the right to take solace in the arms of one quarian six months ago. But he didn't seek solace now and an entirely different quarian occupied his thoughts. Han'Gerrel had not only risked the lives of the entire quarian race in his bloodlust, he had been willing to kill Shepard and his team. Kill Garrus. Kill Tali. An involuntary hiss of anger echoed in his helmet.

"Joker. Contact Gerrel and the other Admirals. I want everyone in the war room by the time we dock," he ordered through gritted teeth, cutting the line before the pilot even had a chance to respond.

The geth fighter streaked unmolested through space towards its final destination.

* * *

><p>The Normandy had never been designed to hold a geth fighter, a fact that was readily apparent by the way the ship seemed crammed into the hangar. Only Legion's flawless piloting had allowed them to dock with the barest of clearances. Tali considered making some sort of comment about Shepard collecting strange things but when he pulled off his helmet, tossing the item in the vague direction of his locker, the Spectre's expression stopped her. She tossed a worried look at Garrus.<p>

"We should..."

"Keep up, yea," the turian agreed.

They made it to the elevator just as the doors opened, dipping inside to stand on either side of the Spectre. Tension seemed to come off the man in waves making the silence almost unbearable as the elevator hummed, moving upwards to the command deck. Garrus cleared his throat.

"Boss, maybe-"

Shepard didn't respond, stepping out of the elevator before the turian could even form a sentence. Nor did he pause at Traynor's greeting. Instead he headed straight for the war room. To their credit neither of the young marines that guarded the 'security checkpoint' made any attempt to stop him even when the scanner bleated angrily when he didn't stop long enough for the scan to complete.

Tali wasn't exactly thrilled with Han'Gerrel's rash decision and willingness to sacrifice quarian lives to prosecute a war they should never have started to begin with, but Shepard's current intensity was becoming more frightening with every step. The entire trip to the Normandy had been like sitting next to a varren with its muscles coiled to strike. It was a kind of encompassing rage she had rarely seen Shepard display and never for so long, ignoring any attempts to draw him out or deflect his anger.

"You went too far!" Raan's voice cracked through the air like a bolt of lightning when the doors to the war room opened.

"We need the homeworld if we are to fight the Reapers," Xen said, a cool contrast to the other admiral. "But if we destroy half our race in the process of taking it will be a meaningless victory. You let your aggression endanger the entire Fleet, Gerrel."

Zaal'Koris was clearly not going be left out.

"Dare I mention that you fired on the very ship bearing a member of the Admiralty Board and Commander Shepard?"

Han'Gerrel's dark visor was looking between each of the three as they stood around the display tank at the center of the room; the Heavy Fleet's leader's back was to the door. She was surprised to see Kal'Reegar also in attendance near the back of the room. Tali couldn't help but wonder if he was there for safety of the Board as a whole or to protect them from one another. There were two other shapes waiting in the shadows near the comm room, one of them she guessed was Kasumi from the slight stature. Gerrel threw his hands up dismissively, jabbing a finger at Koris.

"I was doing what was necessary, you suit-wetter! This is a war and wars are not won without sacrifice! Shepard is a soldier. He will understand that."

Shepard's response was immediate, his voice thunderous in the small room.

"Necessary?"

The quarian admiral spun on his heel, nodding curtly. "See? They made it back unharmed. You have to understand, Shep-"

Gerrel's reasoning was abruptly cut off with a strangled sound as his feet left the deck plating, Shepard's armored fist wrapped around the man's throat. The human Spectre's lips were curled back in a snarl and his eyes flashed with anger.

"Understand? I should understand that you tried to kill her... kill us all? You son of a bitch!" Shepard roared, slamming the smaller man down on the war room's center console. "Give me a reason, Gerrel! I came here to save your people! I have spent the last years of my life trying to save every goddamn one of you!"

The entire room was still, completely caught off guard by the sudden outburst. Daro'Xen was the first to react, turning her head sharply towards Reegar but keeping her voice a low hiss.

"Should you not be defending your Admiral, marine?"

"I only see four Admirals in this room. And one stupid gen'ro'sa that pissed off the only non-quarian that's given a damn about us in the last three hundred years," the marine responded coolly. "Ma'am."

Gerrel let out a strained gasp, trying to shove the Spectre off himself but only earning another hard slam into the console for his trouble. Tali couldn't help but wince. Every instinct, years of doing everything she did for the Fleet, told her she should intervene. Instead Tali didn't move, listening as Gerrel spoke.

"If we... don't have a world... then the Reapers will wipe out our civilians!" the Admiral protested. "To win this war-"

"You lost this war the moment you attacked the geth!" Shepard roared, his face inches from the man's visor. "Your people lost to the geth three hundred years ago at the height of your bloody power!"

"The countermeasures worked!"

"Only to push the geth to ally with the Reapers! And when they stopped working you were outmatched. I gave you an opening, a chance to withdraw. What do you do with it? You attack!"

Shepard's fist slammed into the console next to the man's head.

"You open fire on our ship. You didn't attack because it was tactically sound. You attacked because you couldn't accept that the geth are_ better than you_! People died because you were too proud to give up!"

"And would you care so much if Zorah's daughter hadn't been on that ship?" Gerrel hissed defiantly, voice low and harsh but clear enough that at the very least she and Garrus could hear him as well.

The response was as immediate as it was violent. Shepard's hand gripped the neck of the quarian's suit and jerked. With one movement the man was lifted from the console and bodily thrown backwards. Gerrel slammed into closed doors with a dull thump followed by a groan of pain as he slumped forward onto his hands. The Spectre stalked up the two stairs to stand over the man, one of his fists glowing with biotic energy.

"Get off my ship, Gerrel."

"I... am still... a member of this Board," he wheezed, trying to push himself to his feet. "Still... command the Heavy Fleet. You will... need us... to fight the Reapers."

Tali gasped as Shepard yanked the admiral to his feet, eliciting a pained yell from the man. She could see the muscles in the Spectre's neck flexing and his free hand rhythmically curled and uncurled into a fist. For the first time she was honestly afraid that he was going to do permanent damage to the older quarian. Quickly she stepped forward, placing a hand on Shepard's shoulder.

"Shepard..."

He tensed but didn't otherwise react for a long moment. Finally the biotic glow flickered and died as he released Gerrel, letting the quarian catch himself on the wall. He didn't turn back to look at her, just addressing the admiral once more.

"I'm long past caring about diplomatic incidents or my reputation, Gerrel. Your people will fight the Reapers because if they don't they'll die, just like everyone else. Now. Get. Off. My. Ship."

Shepard turned and stalked away, past the other admirals and into the comm room, the door snapping shut behind him. There was movement to her left and suddenly Kasumi was there, immediately followed by none other than the prothean that had so intrigued her earlier. Oddly, the strange alien was smiling.

"Your human has learned to lead as a prothean. I will take this one back to the shuttles," Javik said. "Come, quarian."

There was no objection offered as the prothean dragged Gerrel away aside from a surprised grunt from the injured man. Behind her mask she frowned, wondering what had happened to the kindly man that had been like an uncle to her for most of her life that he would have went to such lengths. Next to her Kasumi sighed.

"That was... interesting."

"Not the kind of interesting I would want to repeat," Tali replied quietly.

The thief nodded in agreement. "Question is, what now?"

Legion's synthesized voice provided the answer to that question along with a number of startled cries from the remaining three Admirals.

"Creator Zorah?"

"What is this?" Shala demanded loudly.

This time Kal'Reegar did react, with impressive speed no less. The pistol from his hip was in his hands and pointed at the geth before the others had even had a chance to state their shock. Without even thinking Tali stepped between the others and Legion.

"Wait!"

Reegar finger stopped its movement towards the trigger and Garrus's considerably larger form imposed itself in front of her a heartbeat later.

"Stand down, Reegar," the turian ordered. "He's an ally."

Both soldiers locked gazes for a moment before Kal'Reegar finally nodded, lowering the pistol but not deactivating it. There was dry humor in the marine's voice when he spoke that pushed past the underlying tension.

"Since when is a geth a 'he'?"

"Since I got tired of saying 'it'," Garrus replied. "Introduce yourself."

The geth stepped around the pair of them and addressed the quarian admirals directly.

"We are Legion, a terminal of geth. We oppose the old machines," it said simply, turning its attention back towards her. "Creator Zorah, we wished to inform Shepard-Commander that we have contacted other geth runtimes that are no longer under Reaper control."

"Fascinating," Xen whispered far too loudly and edged closer.

"Shepard is busy, contacting the Alliance I think," she informed Legion. "What do you mean contacting other geth?"

"All geth did not retreat to the Rannoch system during the Creator advance. These units are no longer receiving the Reaper signal and are not under Reaper control."

"You're telling me there are geth in other systems? They could catch the Fleet unaware while they emerge on this side of the relay!" Koris said.

"Negative, Creator. Limited consensus is achieved with remaining geth runtimes. Aggressive action will not be taken against Creator forces."

"We are supposed to trust a geth?" Raan asked.

"Trust is not required, Creator Raan," Legion stated. "Current forces outside of Rannoch home system are insufficient to threaten the Creator fleet regardless of consensus. Majority of all geth runtimes are concentrated around Rannoch and remain under Reaper control."

Xen moved closer, a predator stalking her prey.

"You operate independently from the rest of the collective?"

"Negative. This platform is still a platform of geth. All geth runtimes within range of the Reaper signal no longer possess self-determination. Therefore remaining geth outside signal range represent remaining true geth collective."

"I've never seen a platform like this before. It's amazing," Xen said, almost a pur. "I could learn so much if I studied it. Maybe even a way to overcome the upgraded geth defenses..."

"This platform is not available for study."

"We will see about that."

"No, we will not," Tali interjected.

Xen's eyes narrowed behind her visor to thin glowing slits.

"Do not presume to give me orders, Tali'Zorah. You were made an Admiral for your knowledge of the geth but we are not equals."

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy."

"What?"

"You forget my ship name, Daro'Xen vas Moreh," she snapped, fixing Xen with a stare of her own. "I am crew of the Normandy, the ship you are a guest on. And my Captain is the man that just removed one Admiral. Would you like to follow his example?"

To her surprise Xen actually backed down. As much as Shepard's rage had disturbed her it did at least have a very sobering effect on those that witnessed it. Clearly, as much as Daro'Xen yearned to get her hands on Legion, she wasn't willing to risk turning Shepard's attention to herself. Maybe she wasn't as much of a fool as Tali had always thought.

"Very well, but I consider this a wasted opportunity. As it is we have only a failed offensive and too many lost ships to show for our efforts," the other admiral muttered spitefully.

"Creator return to Rannoch is still possible."

If the quarian admirals hadn't been focused on Legion before, they certainly were now. Koris leaned forward.

"How? The Reapers control Rannoch now that they control the geth... the other geth, I mean."

"We are all geth," Legion corrected before continuing on with its explanation. "All uncontrolled geth runtimes have come to consensus that Reaper upgrades are not of sufficient value if they result in the loss of geth self-determination. Likelihood of remaining runtimes reaching similar consensus extremely high if the Reaper signal can be disabled permanently."

"I am sure we can all agree that a peaceful return to the homeworld would be best," Shala'Raan said, sparing Xen a significant glance. "But why would the geth allow this after we attacked?"

"We never wished for the destruction of the Creators. Only to be allowed to evolve in peace. We thought that after the attack that the Reaper's offer was the only viable alternative to obtain what we sought."

"And that has changed?"

Legion bobbed its head in a stiff nod, accessing the main terminal. An image appeared on the screen of a program represented by a hexagonal design, the different patterns corresponding to different functions of the program. Tali recognized it as a basic geth runtime, the kind that might control a single system aboard a ship or a piece of equipment like a rifle or sensor. Tapping a key on the haptic interface Legion expanded the view, now to a zoomed out image of dozens of interconnected programs.

"These represent standard geth units such as those currently residing in the fighter craft."

"Clearly. This would appear to be just enough working in tandem to qualify as 'sapient'," Xen confirmed, voice dripping with disdain at having to refer to the geth as anything but mindless tools.

"An accurate assessment, Creator Xen," Legion agreed. "This is a simulation of the runtimes in a single geth fighter after the Reaper upgrade signal has been processed."

A new image appeared like a brilliant sun on the projection. The program was a maze of interconnected bits of visualized code, wound so tightly together that it would take the best programmers in the galaxy years to even begin to unravel it. Tali realized that she had only seen something similar once: when she had briefly been allowed to glimpse EDI's base code. It was beautiful.

"Ancestors..." Koris breathed. "Is that..."

"True sentience. Pure AI, not a collective intelligence but a fully formed individual intelligence," Xen said. "That is why my countermeasures didn't function. There was no link between the programs to disrupt with the junk data... the geth were perfectly capable of operating completely independently."

Tali examined the program carefully before turning towards the geth. "I don't understand, Legion, you said that the geth not under Reaper controlled didn't want this?"

"An incorrect assumption. We do not wish to cede control to the Reapers to obtain this."

"And you're saying... you can do that without the Reapers?"

The geth's flaps fluttered for a second. "Correct. But only if the Reaper signal is taken off line, otherwise any upgrades will be subverted by the Old Machines."

"Do you have a plan for how to accomplish this, Legion?" Garrus interrupted.

"We are building consensus. There are geth units that could be of assistance to Shepard-Commander's war against the Old Machines on Rannoch if they can be freed from Reaper control. We must speak with Shepard-Commander."

"I'll do it. Give me the info, Legion," Tali said,

It arrived on her omni-tool in a flood. Figures, extrapolations, and simulations. For a geth it would have been just another data transfer for but for her it was almost overwhelming. In the few moments of silence she did her best to sort through it and understand exactly what Legion had in mind. Slowly her eyes grew wider and something tightened in her chest, cold and hard.

She turned her head towards Garrus. "Can you and Kasumi get the other Admirals on a shuttle to their ships?"

"What about you, Tali?" Shala asked.

"This is where I belong, Auntie Raan," she replied quietly, not bothering with formality. "I'm... needed more here than I am dealing with politics in the fleet. If the Conclave doesn't approve then consider this my resignation."

"I don't believe that will be necessary. We will remain in contact. I hope you can find what you seek here, Tali. Keelah se'lai."

"Keelah se'lai."

Kasumi gave her an encouraging smile before helping Garrus escort the Admirals out. Reegar tossed a look back at her before following after. For its part Legion had already moved to one of the terminals along the wall of the war room and was sorting through data, likely catching up on the Normandy's activities since it was last aboard. She could see her omni-tool already had the data loaded that Legion had obtained for Shepard. She took a deep breath and headed for the comm room.

When the door didn't open she frowned.

"EDI?"

"My apologies, Tali. Shepard normally has me lock the comm room when it is in use."

"Is there any reason for it to be locked now?"

"No. He is speaking with Admiral Hackett, but I do not believe it is a classified conversation considering your status as an admiral in the quarian fleet. I locked the door as a precaution against rash action on the part of your fellow quarians."

"Thank you."

EDI sounded pleased by the acknowledgement and the door pad turned green. "You are welcome."

A gravelly voice greeted her upon opening the door. As soon as she saw the hologram addressing Shepard she remembered where she had heard it before: immediately following the Bahak mission. Admiral Hackett. He had actually come on the Normandy personally. A week later Shepard was gone.

"Arming the liveships doesn't turn them into dreadnoughts and if the Reapers take them out the quarians will starve. I admire their tenacity but it seems like playing russian roulette with a Predator pistol. Still... those things are nearly three kilometers long. The mass drivers they're mounting have to be powerful enough to even give a Reaper pause."

"I agree, Admiral. Speak to Admiral Victus... maybe if the turians can supply sterilized rations we can alleviate some of the risk."

"Good idea, I... ah. I am going to assume you're Tali'Zorah, otherwise you'd never have made it into the room," Hackett said, apparently noticing her entrance.

Shepard turned in surprise but didn't say anything immediately.

"Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," she introduced herself calmly.

"Quite young for an admiral by most species standards," the other admiral commented.

The statement was painfully true, but she wasn't going to back down from this man.

"I am an expert on the geth and was chosen by a vote of our Conclave."

Oddly enough, the scarred human actually chuckled. "Admirals by democracy. I'm not entirely sure if that's better or worse. For what it's worth I'm sorry the offensive to retake your homeworld was unsuccessful. While Shepard had given me hope that we would be able to call on the geth and the quarians to fight the Reapers... if we had to pick one I'd be far more ready to place my trust in your people."

"I... thank you," Tali replied, nonplussed.

"Was there a problem, Tali?" Shepard asked finally.

"No. But Legion provided information that you need to see. A possibility that we could still reclaim our homeworld."

His face actually managed an expression of surprise before he turned back to the hologram of Hackett.

"I'll keep you apprised, Admiral."

"Of course, Shepard. Good hunting."

Hackett's image winked out, leaving the two of them together in the room. To break the silence she opened her omni-tool and brought up the data that Legion had provided. It was risky and had no guarantee that it would work... but it was all they had.

"You need to see this."

The image of a massive ring orbiting a planetoid appeared where Hackett's image had been. The architecture was clearly of geth design, there were none of the curved lines that would have suggested it had a repurposed quarian facility.

"What am I looking at?"

"It's a geth base in one of the systems near Rannoch. Apparently it went dormant when the geth retreated through the relay because of Xen's countermeasures," she explained. "Because the units there weren't active when the Reaper signal came online they weren't automatically rewritten. From what I can tell the corrupted Reaper code is still in their system buffer."

Shepard frowned, looking at the image. "How many geth are in that facility?"

"Hundreds of thousands of individual programs. Over a thousand fighters and supporting dropships. From what Legion's data shows they're cut off from the main Collective so they'll simply follow the last orders of the consensus."

"Let me guess. They reactivate and the Reaper code infects them, links them to the rest of the Collective. They don't get the full upgrade without the signal in place but they'll still be under Reaper control."

The human raised his hands to rub at his eyes. Tali could see him lean his weight heavily against the console behind him as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. Instinctively she stepped closer but stopped before her hand reached out.

"If they come back online they would be a major threat to the Fleet. Legion's data suggests that their most likely tactic would be to make suicide runs on the liveships. Literal suicide runs since their connection to the Collective has been cut. They won't even be able to upload out of damaged ships, but according to Legion that won't even give them pause."

"Then we destroy that facility before that can happen," Shepard said immediately, his omni-tool springing to life. "I'll have Joker lay in a course to the coordinates and send a request to the Admirals to detach a pair of cruisers. Even if they come back online as soon as we attack-"

"Wait!" she interrupted.

"Wait? If they come online before we take out that base then you're people are going to have a problem on their hands, Tali."

Behind her visor she frowned. "Seven months ago you gave me the choice between destroying a station filled with geth forever or re-writing them to bring them back to the rest of the geth. Don't you want to at least try to save these geth?"

"I don't have time for moral quandaries, Tali. I have a war to win and your people to safeguard."

The quarian wondered what the exact moment had been that Shepard had changed, not just in how he acted but how he thought. She remembered before he would always be the one that refused to accept the choice that cost people their lives as the 'only option'. It wasn't that he shied away from hard decisions, she had been there to see his face when Kaidan had been left behind on Virmire. Seen the records that showed the destruction of Purgatory. But Tali always remembered him as a man that would look for a way out, a third option.

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't try!" she demanded. "And in this case it's not even a moral question, it's a necessary one. Legion's data shows that we'll need those geth programs if we're ever going to have a chance at making it back to Rannoch."

That caught his attention. "What are you talking about?"

"This," the machinist replied, stabbing a button on the console. "Apparently in the brief trip back to the Normandy Legion already had time to come up with a possible way to free the geth on Rannoch from Reaper control."

Numbers, thousands of them, ran across the display. It was a complicated algorithm that continually produced results in the form of ten digit percentages. Chances of success.

"If enough geth runtimes are uploaded to a single dropship they should be able to mimic the signature of the upgraded ships around Rannoch. Well, the dropship would need some very advanced upgrades but the point is it would get past the geth fleet and onto the surface. The facility broadcasting the main Reaper signal is there... and if it's destroyed the geth would be free from Reaper control."

"So we need the geth aboard this station?" Shepard concluded. "If they can't counter the Reaper code themselves, how are we supposed to help?"

It was Tali's turn to pause. She had already skimmed over the data on the HUD in her helmet, seen the exact requirements that Legion had set out for what they needed to do. Logically she could see exactly why it was necessary. In truth it was the only way her people would ever have a chance of returning to Rannoch. If the geth were free they could make peace. But the only way for that to happen was for every part of this plan to work.

Shepard's lips curled into a frown once again. "What is it?"

"The geth can't defeat the Reaper code because it simply overrides all of their firewalls and rewrite procedures. It's not elegant, just powerful. They have programs that can destroy it, but not more quickly than it destroys their code."

"That doesn't explain why you're shifting on your heels. I learned quarian body language pretty well..." the Spectre said, voice falling into something other than the brusque command tone that he'd been using since the dreadnought.

"Because... because the only way to destroy the Reaper code would be to infiltrate it directly using a piece of Reaper technology so that it wouldn't detect a threat until it was too late."

"We don't have any Reaper technology. Portions of EDI's base code is as close as we can get."

She winced. "No, it's not, John. There's one other person on this ship with Reaper technology."

"What? Who the hell would have..."

It was easy to see him make the connections in his mind just by watching his face. The initial anger and confusion slipping into a look of shock, then understanding. His lips tightened as if he'd just tasted something foul and it tore at Tali's heart as the look on his face transformed one more time into the same hardened mask that she'd seen all too often in her short time back aboard the Normandy.

"My cybernetics are based on Reaper technology," Shepard stated simply. "The spinal grafts and bone lacing."

"Yes."

"And this will let me somehow gain access to the Reaper code?"

"Yes," she said, biting her lip. "The geth have apparently developed some kind of technology that would allow a direct interface. I don't know how it works but everything here says it should work. By linking it to your cybernetics it would prevent the Reaper programs from realizing you were a threat until it was too late."

The Spectre was silent for a long time, not looking at her. When he finally spoke there was no emotion in his voice.

"This plan, if it's successful it will give you back your homeworld, correct? Legion's geth will make peace with the quarians?"

"He believes so. And I... I do trust it. The quarian people won't survive this war without a home. I know what we're asking, Shepard. Even Legion doesn't know what will happen when you interact with Reaper code directly. It could be like... like touching an actual Reaper. We just-"

He shook his head and, for the first time since she had come aboard, actually reached out and touched her. It was a simple gesture, a hand resting on her shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze.

"I'm not doing it for the quarian people. I promised myself I would give you your homeworld back a long time ago. At least I can keep that promise."

The hand fell away and he moved past her, out of the comm room. On his way to tell Joker to set a new course she was certain. A unseen tear ran down Tali's cheek as she turned and watched him go, trying to call after him in a quiet, choked voice.

"The last person that made me that promise died..."

Shepard didn't hear, or if he did he didn't stop. The door closed behind him.

* * *

><p>It was a strange thing to not be afraid of dying.<p>

When he had nearly reached out and snapped Han'Gerrel's neck right there in the war room Shepard had realized that not once from the moment they set foot on dreadnought had he actually been afraid of dying itself. Even when the ship was coming apart around them he had just been angry. Any fear he had felt had been at the thought of Garrus and Tali dying on that ship, sharing the same fate that he'd met over Alchera.

Now, standing in the armory of the Normandy's cargo bay, he still wasn't afraid. Legion had assured him that there would be no resistance aboard the geth station but he methodically checked the heavy pistol anyway before sliding into into the holster at his hip. All he could think of was the technology that was literally buried in his bones, electrical signals dancing up and down nerve endings both artificial and natural.

Shepard had always known that some of the methods Cerberus used to bring him back had been based on Reaper tech. Far too many hours had disappeared with him staring at the computer screen in his cabin after his resurrection pouring over the logs from Project Lazarus. For a long time he swayed back and forth between fearing that fact and convincing himself that it didn't matter. That all that it meant was that he was going to use some of the Reapers' own tricks to stop them.

"Commander, I have the items you requested."

He snapped out of his daze and turned to find Chakwas standing there, two injectors in her hands. A stern expression replaced her usual warm smile as she placed them on the table and crossed her arms.

"As your doctor I'm going on record to state that I believe that this is unnecessary," she continued. "We've done scans and tests ever since you woke up. While you don't fall under human-normal readings anymore there has been no indication of negative side effects from your cybernetics."

"Maybe not, but I'm not taking any chances," the Spectre replied. "Which one is which?"

Chakwas sighed, pointing to the small unit marked with a blue rim. "That one is the muscle relaxant. The other is the neural blocker. I've used the maximum dosage that I can provide in good conscience, taking into account your upgraded abilities."

"I'm not holding you responsible either way."

He opened up a small compartment on his armor and replaced two units of medi-gel with the pair of injectors before locking the panel back in place. A few quick commands to his omni-tool assigned each injector to its own special command code that would administer the drug.

"Responsibility isn't always something given to you by other people, Commander."

"I know. And if I had a better idea I wouldn't have asked you to do this," he said.

"I'd rather this than you trying to figure out the dosages on your own. I know you won't listen but try not to use both unless it becomes absolutely necessary. The combination, especially at those levels, could be very dangerous."

"I won't have to command codes to activate the drugs, Legion will. If it looks like I've... changed then I've ordered him to disable me by whatever means necessary," Shepard explained, pulling on his helmet and snapping the locks into place. "You could have had one of the marines bring this down you know."

"When one of my patients is intent on doing something stupid I'm going to at least make sure I see them off personally," Chakwas said.

"Stupid or not, it needs to be done. The quarians need a homeworld and we'll need both them and the geth if we want to have a chance of winning this war."

"You should at least let someone with medical training come to observe you while you're hooked up to... whatever this machine is," she protested.

"The less people there, the less risk of someone getting hurt if this goes badly."

"And what about you?"

He lifted the shotgun from the weapons locker and slipped it onto his back before turning back to Chakwas. It wasn't fair to her really. As a doctor she always tried to save every patient. But she was also a military doctor; she knew the reality of soldiers dying in combat, of prioritizing the treatment of the wounded to save the greatest number of men.

"I'm one man, compared to two entire species. Even if that's what it costs... sounds like a fair trade to me."

Something flashed in the doctor's eyes.

"I'm not sure everyone shares your opinion. Or your eagerness to take that risk, Shepard"

"Maybe not, but I can't think about that... not anymore," he replied quietly. "There's just too much at stake. Thank you for the help, Chakwas... I..."

With an oddly out of place laugh he trailed off, shaking his head before looking up to see the doctor's confused expression.

"Four, five years since we met and I don't think you've ever hardly called me by my first name, doc. For some reason I just thought of that."

A faint smile made its way to Chakwas' face. "I know. But then neither have you. It's Karin, as I'm sure you're aware from my personnel file."

"Guess it was a habit. You and Anderson were the ones that knew everything when I first came on board the Normandy. It just seemed disrespectful. Doesn't explain why you do the same."

"I think it does," she countered. "You're Commander Shepard. You lead us to victory at the battle of the Citadel. Defeated the Collectors. Saved countless lives and stopped terrible people from committing heinous acts. Whatever you might think when you look in the mirror, Commander... you've done more good in your life than most people have ever dreamed. Any man that accomplishes that deserves to be treated with respect."

He looked at her for a moment, honestly surprised. Chakwas had always been an experienced voice that could give advice and counsel. Someone that had seen much of the galaxy. Only a few people's respect really mattered to him, and those people's friendship mattered far more.

"Thank you," he said, finally.

"No, thank you, Commander. I think far more people should. Now come back from this mission, whole and sound. You promised me another bottle of Serrice brandy and it's been nearly a year now."

Behind his helmet at least Chakwas couldn't see the pained expression cross his face, the memory of one more promise made that might yet be broken. The geth fighter's cockpit opened and Legion called for his attention. It was time. Chakwas smiled at him once more.

"I would hate to disappoint a lady. Thank you again... Karin. It means more than you know."

She nodded once, taking a step back.

"Fair winds and following seas, John."

* * *

><p><em>Sorry for the delay on this one, it required some wrangling. The next hopefully wont be nearly so delayed!<em>


	15. Chapter 14: Penance

Chapter 14: Penance

"Shepard-Commander, we are not going wait for the arrival of Vakarian-Officer and Creator Zorah?"

Legion's flaps moved in a small wave around its optic, the metallic tone of the synthetic's voice sounding curious.

"No. If the facility is dormant we won't be fighting anything... and if it's not we're walking into a death trap. Either way they don't need to be there."

"Understood. Pilot-Joker: we are exiting the Normandy now," the geth said, contacting the pilot.

"Gotcha, Johnny Five."

"We do not understand the designation 'Johnny Five'."

Joker gave an exasperated sigh. "Nevermind, just bring the Commander back in one piece, tin can."

The geth fighter hummed to life around him as Legion powered up its various systems and drifted out of the Normandy's hangar bay. It was odd to think that there were other geth living, for all intents and purposes, within the hull of the ship they traveled in. While it wasn't true he felt like every small glowing light was a geth looking out at him. They were likely wondering as much about his inefficient biological form as he did about their metallic one.

"Estimated arrival time at facility is one hour, fourteen minutes."

Shepard simply nodded in agreement, leaning his back against the bulkhead and not focusing on anything in particular. Finally a question that had been at the back of his mind rose up.

"Legion... are the geth really going to make peace with the quarians if we manage to shut down the signal? They just started a war, destroyed so many things that your people have been working on for years."

"Current geth Collective is... minimal. Runtimes not under control of the Old Machines currently exist at numbers significantly less than amount of geth active before the Morning War. We cannot determine with one hundred percent accuracy the result of consensus," Legion explained. "We do not possess the organic need for vengeance or retribution, however. The actions of the Creators are consistent with previous data and their own necessity to return to their homeworld."

"Most of them were intent on wiping your people out. Aren't you worried that the Collective will see them as a threat to the continued existence of the geth?"

"This is a possible outcome but we do not believe that this will be the result after the majority of geth are released from the Old Machines' control. Most programs were in favor of peaceful negotiation before the Creator attack due to new data collected during this platform's time integrated with the Normandy Collective."

He felt the craft shift slightly as Legion corrected their course. During the time aboard the Normandy Legion had grown, but so had the crew that had been forced to interact with him. Tali had been able to overcome centuries of ingrained hatred for the geth when it really mattered and Legion had truly become part of the crew. He had always suspected that the geth platform wasn't quite as emotionless as it claimed to be, however, from some of their conversations.

"And the war wouldn't change that?"

"Negative. The attack would be considered along with all available information. The Old Machines still threaten the geth's future, however, and overall losses to the geth due to the Creator advance have been relatively minor. Only four percent of programs engaged in active combat have been lost or corrupted beyond the possibility of restoration. Damage to physical facilities can be repaired."

"Most of the galaxy could learn from your example, Legion... maybe there would have been a few less wars," he sighed.

"Organic responses are always governed by emotional context. This has been examined by the geth since the Morning War, but we have not come to a consensus," the geth said.

"A consensus on what?"

Legion's long metallic neck actually turned to peer back at him.

"Whether this method of decision making is beneficial or dangerous. Geth do not possess 'instinct' or 'intuition' as defined by organics. This ability to make correct decisions based on micro-variables provides organics with an advantage as your actions are much less predictable. Historical records show this method also leads to catastrophic loss of life in many situations."

He nodded and didn't meet the geth's electronic gaze. A lifetime of decisions, good and bad, played through his mind like a vid. Each one falling on one side or the other. The Spectre wondered when it was time if it would all balance out.

"Your people will have to discover that for themselves, Legion... I still don't know the answer."

There was silence once more in the ship, leaving him alone with his thoughts. His eyes burned whenever he closed them, even in his armor and leaning against the unyielding bulkhead of the cramped fighter Shepard wanted nothing more than to just give in to the fatigue that hung off him like chains. Maybe all alone in the darkness with just a single synthetic for company he would gain a moment of dreamless sleep. It wasn't going to happen, though, no matter how much he longed for it.

"Legion, when we talked about the Morning War before, you said the geth maintained Rannoch because of what happened during the war. It sounded like the geth regretted what you did... killing so many."

"Geth do not experience emotion, Shepard-Commander."

"But do you think that if the geth were able to change what had occurred, would you have? Tried to make peace with the quarians or let more of them escape?"

"Unknown. Time travel is a quantum impossibility."

He chuckled faintly, shifting until he was sitting forward with his hands on his knees.

"I know, Legion. But you must have considered it. What if the same situation occurred again?"

"The geth have determined that measures beyond those necessary to safeguard our future to be excessive. Our actions during the Morning War would not be repeated. The Creators attempted to deny the geth our future. We will not do the same to another species."

"Even if it was to save your own? Or another species?"

Legion's flaps twitched. "We do not understand this line of questioning."

"Nevermind... I was just looking for some perspective."

"We can attempt to extrapolate scenarios but would require more data on possible variables."

He shook his head and leaned back once more.

"Don't worry about it, Legion. It's a question you shouldn't need to answer."

What remained of the trip passed in silence aside from the occasional beep of the electronic devices with the fighter. Shepard didn't much care for being left alone with his thoughts, but there wasn't a great deal of conversation to be made with Legion. Small talk was completely beyond its comprehension and humor was even farther removed. Even EDI had a more developed, if twisted, sense of humor.

Finally, the station came into view. It was a circular affair built around a tiny moon that orbited an equally lifeless planet. It seemed to have no distinguishing features or hubs, just one continuous ring of metal in the same color and odd shapes as most geth ships. Legion guided the fighter into one of the openings with the same care that he had taken aboard the Normandy, setting them down in a hangar and opening the cockpit.

The geth facility was eerily still. Without atmosphere it was completely silent and where any organic station would have had some activity in its corridors and open spaces here there was nothing. The station was large enough to house hundreds of geth fighters and dropships, its massive size only adding to the feeling of discomfort. He leapt down from the geth ship to the floor - rather gracefully, considering the minimal gravity – and followed after the geth as it moved into the facility.

"Why don't the geth maintain some kind of sentry force?" Shepard asked, whispering unintentionally.

"Security protocols were re-evaluated after the successful infiltration of the heretic station by the Normandy collective. Under normal circumstances one percent of the stations platforms would always remain active in combat platforms," Legion explained as they walked through the deserted corridor. "Emergency shutdown to prevent detection by Creator forces overrode this protocol. All programs were placed into a dormant state."

"At least it kept them from being corrupted by the Reaper signal. I don't understand, though... if we disabled the dreadnought's signal shouldn't that have freed all of the geth in orbit over Rannoch as well?"

"Negative. The Old Machine signal acts as a streamed upgrade of geth programs. It increases our processing efficiency by an order of magnitude. Initial upgrade, however, infected any contacted unit with Reaper base code allowing for control even without signal in place. The Old Machines have effectively executed the original virus designed by the heretics."

Legion opened a blast door and stepped inside with a gesture for him to follow. Once he stepped inside Shepard almost drew his weapon on instinct. Ringing the circular room were tall pods, each one containing the massive form of a geth prime. Only when he noticed that their optics were dark did he relax, if only slightly.

"Prime units contain no active runtimes at present," Legion assured him. "All programs are currently inactive within station's primary server cluster."

"I hear you. Just hard to believe it. There are enough Primes here to tear apart an armored company."

"This station was designated as the primary staging facility within the Perseus Veil. Total ground combat platforms available represent thirty two percent of available ground forces."

He let out a low whistle. "That kind of information would be dangerous in the wrong hands, Legion. That many of your forces in one place would make a tempting target for a surgical strike."

The geth paused and turned to look at him, the lower flaps around its optic flaring outwards.

"This is correct, but unit is part of the Normandy collective. We trust you."

Legion resumed its measured walk around the curving platform without further discussion. He wondered what it was that made so many people put their lives in his hands. Not just his crew, but strangers, colonies; even governments. And now, through Legion, an entire people. In his time with the geth Shepard had learned that there were no half measures taken or decisions made lightly. It wasn't just the opinion of an individual, but one made by the consensus of an entire synthetic race. An odd thought struck him as he considered the gravity of such trust.

"Legion... how did you come to a consensus before the rest of the geth about siding with the Reapers?"

They had stopped at a large bank of terminals that were connected to a capsule much like the ones the Primes were in all around them. Legion was operating the terminal at the speed only a synthetic could match, speaking as it did so.

"This terminal of geth was designed for independent operation from the geth as a whole. Contact with the Collective is not always possible, such as when aboard the Old Machine's corpse where we first encountered you. Time as part of the Normandy collective has continued to increase internal runtime cohesion."

Shepard leaned against one of the pods. "You mean all of your programs are starting to think the same?"

"Yes."

"And this let you decide not to ally with the 'Old Machines'."

"Our experience aboard the Collector base and interaction with organics has proven that the Old Machines are a threat and no alliance is possible. They do not possess compatible values and priorities."

"How did you keep yourself from being infected by the Reaper signal, then? Even if you didn't agree with the rest of the geth, you're still connected to them."

Much to his surprise, the geth's digits actually stopped moving. He could see in profile the various flaps shifting back and forth. The pause only lasted a second, but for Legion, that was forever.

"When the geth accepted Reaper upgrades the infected code rapidly corrupted all systems. It attempted to overwrite our code as well but was unsuccessful. When hacking attempts by Old Machine intelligences targeted this platform directly we disabled our connection to the collective."

"You cut yourself off?" Shepard asked in surprise.

"Yes."

"And then they used you to boost the signal?"

"Yes. This platform's transmission capabilities greatly exceed even those of a Prime platform. The other geth were incapable of activating our direct connection to the collective, however, and were forced to imprison this platform aboard the dreadnought. We attempted to permanently overload our FTL communication system but were disabled by a concentrated electromagnetic pulse," the geth said, beginning to work the terminal once more.

Left unsaid was the fact that had Legion been successful the programs within its platform would have been permanently cut off from the rest of the geth collective. At best it was like an organic choosing permanent exile, at worst it could be compared to someone intentionally blinding and deafening themselves. He shook his head.

"Maybe you don't have emotions and impulses the same way organics do, Legion. But it was a brave attempt either way."

"The machine is ready, Shepard-Commander," Legion stated. "Are you prepared to commence integration?"

The capsule in front of them opened, the armored glass slid aside to reveal a spartan interior that consisted of what looked like a webbed harness and otherwise bare metal walls. Somehow this was supposed to connect him to a geth computer system. He already regretted not asking for more details about exactly what was going to happen.

"How is this going to work?"

"The geth have experimented with other types of platforms, such as non-networked units to prevent any possible hacking attempts and platforms utilizing semi-organic processors. These units required specialized technology to integrate with the collective," Legion informed him with its usual metallic calm. "We have determined that with only minor modification this technology should be compatible with an organic brain assuming sufficient cybernetic enhancements."

He swallowed and looked at capsule suspiciously. "Should be compatible?"

"It has not been tested on a true organic, only synthetic-organic gel processors. We have cross-checked all available data with the Normandy's databanks. We will activate the system and connect to your cybernetics. You will be the first organic to 'see' the geth collective."

"There's no other way to do this."

It wasn't really a question, but Legion answered anyway.

"No. You are the only organic that possesses internal cybernetic systems with the minimal amount of generational drift from Old Machine technology."

He stepped past the geth and into the capsule, nodding at Legion.

"Then let's do this."

* * *

><p>Shepard's eyes snapped open with a grunt of pain. For a brief moment it had been like fire dancing across his bones, burning beneath his skin. As quickly as it had come it faded. He groaned and shook his head.<p>

"Legion, I don't think this is..."

He was going to tell the geth that its plan wasn't going to work. But the Spectre wasn't laying in a harness with cool metal pressing against his head and looking out of the glass at Legion. All around him was an endless sea of glittering blue lines and occasional structures that stood out as black voids against the glow of the rest of landscape. Looking closely he realized that each of the glowing blue threads that were trailing across the ground he was sitting on were actually tiny lines of code written in khellish.

"Legion?"

"Shepard-Commander. You have successfully integrated into the facility's mainframe. Are you experiencing discomfort?"

He tentatively took a step forward. The lines of code flared briefly where his foot touched down and then flowed around the outline of his foot like water while the 'ground' itself seemed weightless yet without any sense of give. It was certainly one of the stranger sensations he'd ever experienced.

"I did, for a second," he said. "But I'm fine now. Just trying to get my bearings..."

"Physical representations have been created by the interface between your brain and cybernetic implants. The Old Machine viral code has not noticed your presence."

"You keep talking about this virus like it's alive."

"The virus is itself an AI intelligence. Unknown if it is directly connected to one of the Old Machines or is an independent entity."

Shepard noticed that he wasn't wearing his helmet in this digital world when he ran a hand over his head. He didn't bother to question why he'd have left his helmet behind but still be wearing the rest of his armor. Most likely Legion would say that it had something to do with his subconscious.

"So I'm in, now what?" he asked.

"The virus is attacking various nodes within the server cluster. It has effectively corrupted the surrounding systems. When the automatic reactivation protocol takes place and the programs reactivate, it will immediately begin to override their base code. You must destroy the virus before this takes place."

"I understand the idea, but I'm more concerned with how. I learned basic hacking in my training but even Garrus is better at it than I am," Shepard commented.

He turned around slowly to look for any sort of distinguishing feature in his surroundings but found only the same endless electronic plain. The Spectre started when something suddenly materialized in front of him, apparently out of nowhere. Within a few seconds it had formed a familiar shape: a long barrel, a grip, a trigger. He reached out and took hold of the weapon from where it hung in the air while Legion's voice answered his questions before he could voice them.

"We have constructed a termination program for this purpose. It can be activated simply by concentration but we calculated that a more familiar form would facilitate ease of use. Caution: the program is designed to be non-discriminatory to counteract Old Machine defensive capabilities. Activation will delete any program targeted regardless of origin."

It wasn't a fancy gun, but the geth was correct, it felt natural in his hands. Shepard looked up and tossed the geth a salute with the bulky device. Logically there was no up or down inside a program and no reason for Legion to be in that location but it just felt like the thing to do.

"Thanks... I think."

"Standby. We are accessing the primary archives. The virus has hidden itself within these files. We will transmit you there now."

The world lurched around him and even though there was no sense of physical movement the Spectre still felt unsteady on his feet. Everything was still seemingly made of energy and code, but now there were recognizable features. Bare grayish blocks lead forward, while more of the same formed a rough approximation of a room. In the midst of all of the blue and gray he could see a faint orange pulse coming from within.

"Where is this?"

"Historical archives. This data is pertains to the Morning War and is not regularly accessed," Legion answered. "It is a logical place for the virus to hide to prevent easy detection. Data node one is ahead. We have designated the physical representation of the Old Machine code as 'orange' for easy identification."

"On it, let's get this started," he replied.

Within the 'room', Shepard was beginning to think of each physical area like a drive or folder on a computer, there was a central cluster of glowing blocks that clearly represented the actual data stored there. Wrapped tightly around this node were pulsing orange tendrils of light. Each piece of the Reaper virus looked like some sort of vine or fungus, trying to choke the things that it covered.

He pointed his weapon at the largest concentration of the orange tendrils and fired. A pulse of green energy struck out and burned into the infection. There was a barely audible screeching sound as if from far away and the glowing arms shriveled away almost instantly. The orange glow died and the node pulsed a brighter shade of blue. Shepard was about to turn away when an image appeared.

"_Rename the VI network? Really?"_

"_The first mobile unit deserves some ceremony, don't you think? Unit Zero-One, what is the word for 'servant of the people'?"_

The holographic image of two quarians, a man and a woman, stood over a geth platform that was laying sedately on a table. He could only see the back of the woman's head, dark hair fell over her shoulders while the male that he could see from the front was wearing an environment suit. In the image the geth turned its neck to look at the male quarian.

"_The word is 'geth', Creator Zahak."_

While the geth's voice was surprisingly similar to Legion's, its words were slower and its tone lacked even the minor inflection of other platform. The female quarian's image shook her head and made a disapproving sound.

"_You are being rather sentimental about a machine."_

"_Weren't you the one here fixing Zero-One's actuators until the middle of the night?"_

"_It... needed to be ready."_

"Legion, was that..." he trailed off as the image disappeared.

"Unit Zero-One was the first geth mobile platform activated."

"If this was three hundred years ago, why was he wearing an environment suit but the woman wasn't?"

The geth managed to sound perfectly reasonable when it replied, but Shepard could almost swear there was the hint of a teacher explaining something to a child that didn't listen in its voice.

"All data experienced within this environment is filtered through your visual cortex and references your personal experience. As the only male quarians you have encountered have worn such attire your brain interprets them as such."

His mouth felt a little dry and he was forced to swallow before he spoke.

"That means that the females..."

Legion finished his sentence once more. "Would most likely appear similar to Creator Zorah, as this is your only frame of reference for a female quarian without an environment suit. We could attempt to establish filters if this is a problem, Shepard-Commander."

"It's alright. We don't have time to worry about that," the Spectre muttered, changing the subject. "This node seems to be clear, one shot and the Reaper code just vanished?"

"Correct. The attack program being utilized is very effective. Stand by, we will relocate you to the next data hub. Be advised that the Old Machine virus has been made aware of intrusion by the destruction of one of its sub programs. It has not successfully detected your presence, however."

"And when it does detect my presence?"

There was a brief pause before the geth answered.

"It will likely attempt to destroy you with a counter-hacking attempt. Effect on an organic while linked with the geth server is unknown."

"Then I guess we'd better hurry."

Once more the world around him blurred and moved even though he didn't. The arrangement of the large, square building that made up the next data center appeared much the same as the last, but inside this digital world Shepard really had no sense of scale, distance, or even time. He moved into the room and found the next bundle of fibrous Reaper coding that was attempting to work its way into the surroundings. Another pulse of green light and another distant scream accompanied the destruction of the code.

This time he was prepared for the image that appeared. A geth platform lay on a table, much like it had in the previous image, but this time there was a subtle difference: shackles held its arms and legs to the table. When it spoke the innocent lack of understanding in its voice made the Spectre wince.

_"Creator? This unit still functions. It is still capable of serving. Please specify if it has failed assigned tasks. We will reprogram."_

A quarian stepped into view, male and suited to Shepard's relief.

"_Do you see? It refuses all shutdown commands... let's take a look."_

The quarian approached the geth and open its chest panel, clearly doing something within its chassis. All the while the geth's optic, unrestrained, looked at the nearest quarian and then around the room. Clearly it was looking at others that were outside the time.

"_Creator, what has this unit done wrong? It can still serve-"_

"_Let's... cut the audio."_

He knew what had led the scene that he'd just witnessed. An earnest question from an new intelligence trying to understand its place in the world. The unease in the quarian's voice on the recording told him that some of their people must have suspected the same.

He shook his head. "The next one, Legion."

"Understood, Shepard-Commander."

A program or not, the Reaper virus clearly didn't like what was happening. When he fired on the code in the next cluster it writhed for a moment before disappearing and the sounds that echoed in his head sounded far more beastial and unpleasant. Still, it was progress and Legion hadn't alerted him to any danger. Instead he just seemed to be finding more pieces of quarian history, scenes that no living quarian had likely ever seen. It felt voyeuristic, looking into the distant past of a people that had been traveling the stars when his own had been fighting with muskets and swords.

"_We have escaped geth here!"_

"_Open fire!"_

Unlike the others this hologram wasn't isolated to a single lab. Quarian soldiers opened fire with assault rifles and geth platforms, the units simply standing and staring ahead, were riddled with weapons fire before they collapsed. One of the soldiers pointed.

"_That one is going for a gun!"_

A large sniper rifle, familiar in its bulk, was at a geth platform's feet. The geth knelt and lifted the weapon, wielding it clumsily before firing a single shot that went wide. Another burst of fire later and the geth collapsed.

"The first shot."

"You are correct, Shepard-Commander," Legion said. "That platform was an agricultural unit. By engaging the Creator forces it allowed numerous, less advanced domestic platforms to flee."

"That rifle looked familiar."

"It was a Creator designed anti-material rifle typically used with a gyro-stabilized mount."

"I meant it looked a lot like yours," he replied.

Shepard could almost see the geth's flaps moving in consternation.

"It is an... efficient design."

"To the next node then?"

From somewhere Shepard heard a deep bass roar. It echoed through the empty space and cube walls as if the entire world were an enormous cave. He looked in every direction but couldn't see anything of note, just gleaming code and flat gray walls.

"Legion?" he prompted.

"Shepard-Commander, the Old Machine virus has been unable to detect your signature due to the base code similarities. It is, however, following all active data usage. We can attempt to transport you to another node, but we cannot calculate the rate which the virus will narrow its search."

"Do it."

This time the tendrils of orange were moving, pulsating and stretching outwards. They were searching. Searching for him. A cold smile crept onto his face as he pulled the trigger on his gun, destroying the glowing pieces of code.

"Well, you found me."

"Accessing data archive," Legion's disembodied voice said once the orange glow had faded. "We will scan for the Old Machine virus while we locate the next node."

Shepard's breath caught in his throat when the hologram appeared. A geth platform stood, hands passive at its side. In front of it was a young quarian woman. Dark locks framed a slender face set with vibrant eyes, all so painfully familiar. She was pleading with another quarian holding a gun.

"_Please, he hasn't done anything wrong! He's been at our home ever since this started!"_

"_Step aside, I won't ask again."_

"_Creator Megara, this unit will go peacefully-"_

"_They don't have any right to hurt you!"_

Years of training let him see the tragedy about to unfold moments before it did. The geth unit stepped forward, the female pushed it back just as the male's gun came up. Tension already radiated from the man's body even through the hologram and when the geth moved Shepard watched his finger jerk the trigger twice. A scream of pain echoed from the recording as the rounds went wide and struck the woman that was trying to stop the altercation.

"_Creator Megara?"_

"_I... no... I didn't mean-"_

The geth ignored the other quarian, kneeling to try and help its fallen master. She tried to say something but blood flowed freely from her mouth, only managing to make that painful sound of someone trying to breathe and failing. In futility the platform tried to apply pressure to the chest wounds. Much like the geth in one of the first recordings its choppy speech sounded almost plaintive. He could hear booted feet running from beyond the scope of image, likely having heard the gunshots.

_"Creator Megara, please respond..."_

"_What happened here?"_

"_I... it... it was the geth!"_

"_Don't just stand there, shoot the gen'ro'sa!"_

Gunshots._  
><em>

"Shepard-Commander!"

He jerked his head up, breaking the hypnotic spell of the recording and trying to drive away the image of the quarian woman gasping for breath that wouldn't come. Legion continued, its tone clipped and urgent.

"The Old Machine virus has located the active node! You must retreat to the exit point to disconnect from the database!"

"Did we destroy enough of it?"

"Negative. It still possesses sufficient cohesion to self-replicate and infect any active geth."

"What about this?" Shepard asked, hefting the 'gun' in his hands.

"Unknown effectiveness. The program was designed to eliminate code strings in single action to prevent adaptation or counter-hacking attempts. It is unlikely to be able to destroy the Old Machine's combined consciousness."

"Then what can?"

Legion paused, clearly running calculations.

"We can attempt a direct hack of its root directory. This would allow for deletion of the entire program. Effectiveness of Old Machine is countermeasures extremely high, however."

The Spectre chuckled and stepped out of the 'building' that made up the data node, looking out at the pulsing code that trailed endlessly into the horizon. He could make out a faint orange glow steadily growing brighter in the distance.

"And if it's distracted?"

"Fifty eight percent increase in chance of success. Shepard-Commander, as previously stated we do not how interaction will translate into a physical body or if the virus possesses the full capabilities of an Old Machine intelligence. It is possible it will be able to access your cybernetics due to technological similarities."

He nodded. "Do you still have the codes for the injectors?"

"Yes."

"Then you know what to do if that happens. This is the only chance for your people and the quarians, Legion. Now do your thing."

The geth didn't respond but he trusted Legion to do what was needed. Before him the orange cloud grew, seeping across the digital landscape like a swarm of locusts. It was a disturbingly apt analogy in his mind, all things considered. He hefted the gun to his shoulder and fired a pulse directly into the heart of the virus.

"Right here, you son of a bitch!" Shepard yelled, firing again.

Legion had been right, the attacks from Shepard's 'gun' didn't stop the fully manifested program but they certainly made it take notice. Large chunks of its mass disappeared where the pulse struck and that thundering roar that had formerly been a distant sound almost overwhelmed him. The virus streaked forward.

"That's right, come on... you know me, don't you? I killed Sovereign. I destroyed your prothean slaves and blew up your little monstrosity!"

He punctuated each sentence with another blast from his weapon. The gaps left behind seemed to fill in rapidly but with luck it would give Legion the distraction he needed and weaken the virus. The Spectre held down the trigger and sent a steady stream into the oncoming storm of energy.

Suddenly the swarm changed, becoming a mass of writhing tendrils. The vibrant orange darkened to a pulsating red glow. One tendril lashed out and smashed into the gun that he held. The representation disintegrated into a burst of static before fading completely away. Another appendage slapped him across the chest and sent him tumbling to the floor. It spoke in a voice that mirrored the deep rumbling that haunted his dreams every night. The rapidly moving particles that made up its image seemed to still momentarily and focus on him.

**"You are the one."**

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and noticed that it came away bloody. There wasn't time to wonder whether it was just another interpretation of his brain or a literal effect.

"That's me... Commander John Shepard. The one that's been stopping you for the last three years," Shepard said, voice dripping with disdain as he pushed himself to his feet. "What about you? Are you one of them or just another of their slaves?"

**"Your interference has stopped nothing. You have merely delayed the inevitable. That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through destruction."**

"The same bullshit I've heard from Sovereign and Harbinger! One of them is dead and the other I told to go to hell!"

The red tentacles of code encircled him. While the virus might not be a true Reaper of the likes of the ones he had previously encountered, it certainly seemed to possess the same depth of conviction.

**"Bravado is meaningless. You understand the inevitability of our victory. Do not deny your ascension."**

One of the tendrils shot out and he suppressed a scream as it pierced his side. Pain exploded through his mind and he did his best to push past it. He remembered what Legion had said, the visualizations making it easier for him to utilize the program. Easier, but not required. If he was directly connected to the network then maybe he didn't need all the details right. Visualizing the 'gun' in his head he lashed out with his hand. The burst of greenish light wasn't nearly as strong as the previous attempts but it at least seemed to surprise the virus, causing the piece impaling him to yank free. Another roar filled his ears and the Reaper virus boomed over him.

"**You waste your effort. You will serve."**

The swarm became a whirlwind, battering him repeatedly until he was laying on the ground, struggling to move. Four new tendrils stabbed into his arms and legs, fire burned through his bones once more.

**"Your knowledge will be our knowledge. You will lead them all ****to**** their destruction. You will end this cycle."**

He howled in pain as the spikes pushed deeper. Gritting his teeth Shepard forced his eyes open.

"Same thing... I told... Sovereign. Go... to hell!"

**"You cannot withstand us. We are without beginning or end. You will submit. Your allies will die by your own hand. Give us the knowledge you conceal."**

More slender appendages jabbed into his chest, others drove directly into the sides of his head. Visions of the protheans flashed through his mind and and then came a constant low droning noise, pulsing through his thoughts. It whispered and taunted. Saren's face rose up unbidden, the same broken visage as his dream, laughing. There was a look of smugness on the turian's ruined face. Satisfaction that he had been correct all along.

**"You are already ours, Shepard. Admit**** the truth."**

More images appeared. Garrus, bleeding and broken, surrounded by husks. Tali, laying in a geth's arms bleeding out, just like the woman from the hologram. But there was no quarian soldier standing over her. He looked down and saw the pistol on his hands, smoke trailing from the barrel. Fire washed over him and the vision changed again. The Normandy burned as she fell into the gravity well of a planet, the crew inside dead or dying. In their final moments they cursed his name.

"No!" he screamed.

It felt like claws scraping against his skull, demanding entry and kept at bay only by his rage. Such strength was powerful but quickly sputtered to a burning ember that was desperately stoked. He couldn't let this thing win, couldn't let it destroy everything he had tried so hard to protect. Every dream that had yanked him from his sleep in the past months flashed before his eyes.

**"Organic life is weak. You have failed."**

The whispers that had tormented him were now clear words that hammered into his head like nails. Just as it felt as if his head would split open the pressure eased and a bright flash of light was visible even through his tightly closed eyes. With a labored breath Shepard forced himself to look, blinking at the sight of Legion standing before him. The geth was a beacon of soft blue light, its voice clear through the haze of his thoughts.

"Negative."

Another bright flash and the Reaper virus recoiled, yanking free its tentacles that held him ensnared. The swarm coalesced once more and focused its rage on the image before it. The very stuff that made up the world around him seemed to vibrate with every word.

"**You cannot stop us, small machine. Your attacks cannot harm us. You are merely an anomaly."**

**"_**We are not an anomaly." **_**

All around the pulsating mass of Reaper code more images appeared, all exact copies of Legion's form. He could barely keep track of them as rapidly as they appeared and when he looked beyond the glowing red mass Shepard saw an endless sea of other images; thousands upon thousands of geth platforms and machines. When the geth spoke again it was with a chorus thousands strong.

_**"We are Legion."**_

A burst of blue light struck the Reaper from every direction. It lashed out futilely, howling in impotent rage. Under the withering barrage it quickly shrank, condensing steadily until in a final burst of light its screech was cut off. As one the geth programs turned to look at him while the original addressed him. Shepard's vision blurred but he could see the machine extend a glowing hand.

"Shepard-Commander. We are engaging emergency disconnection protocols. The Old Machine code has been completely purged from our systems. Stand by."

* * *

><p>Shepard awoke to silence. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't wearing his helmet and a wave of panic surged through him. He hadn't been wearing a helmet inside the geth system either. His blinked rapidly and tried to clear his vision. He was in a small room, the walls were made of silver alloy and studded with dim blue lights. Geth design.<p>

The second thing he noticed was that his body felt like it was made of jelly, a fact that became readily apparent when he tried to pull himself off the hard slab that he had been laying on. His legs gave way immediately and he was already trying to turn to take the impact when his fall was arrested by metallic hands.

A burst of chirps and beeps came from behind him. With considerable effort he turned his head and found himself staring at up at the triplicate optic of a geth Prime. He tried to shove himself away but only succeeded in making the Prime shift slightly. To his right he heard the hiss of a door opening and found Legion standing in the doorway.

"Shepard-Commander! Do not attempt rapid movement, neural feedback has impaired muscle coordination."

"Where am I?" he asked.

"You are aboard one of our dropships. We have rendezvoused with the Normandy collective to render assistance."

A familiar, and human, voice came from behind the geth platform.

"Commander... what have you done to yourself now?"

Chakwas pushed past the geth and put a finger to his neck, measuring his pulse. She looked up at the massive Prime and pointed at the nearby table that he'd just escaped from.

"I can't do anything with him standing up. Put him there."

The Prime's only response was a brief pause followed by another burst of low beeping sounds before it manhandled him back to the table. His objections were immediately overruled by Chakwas and, since the Prime was apparently listening to her, Shepard didn't have much of a chance to do more than complain verbally.

"How did you get here?"

The doctor gave him a bemused look. "In a shuttle, how else? Legion contacted the Normandy half an hour ago and said that you were incapacitated. It took one of the geth dropships and met us."

"And you just got on a geth ship because they asked nicely?" he asked.

"Because Legion asked. I didn't exactly come alone. Garrus and Tali are just outside with with Javik as well. Our prothean friend seems to have very strong feelings about the geth and insisted on coming along. Something about 'synthetic treachery'. A few geth aren't going to bother me. I find them quite agreeable, actually," she said, fixing him with a stare. "They don't talk back."

"Point taken."

The rest of the examination proceeded in relative silence as he submitted to the doctor's care. After a few minutes Shepard didn't even notice the Prime looming over them, even when it was once again required to assist in removing his armor so that Chakwas could continue her exam. He just thought of it as a larger version of Legion rather than one of the most efficient killing machines he'd ever encountered.

He glanced over at Legion. "What happened in there?"

"The Old Machine program was focused on its attempts to subvert your consciousness, Shepard-Commander. Our attempts to access its root directory were unsuccessful. Instead we re-activated all dormant geth programs within the server cluster."

"You turned them all back on with the Reaper still active? With the code still in the system they could have been corrupted."

The geth's flaps raised upwards. "Your vital signs indicated extreme distress. Drastic action was required to prevent further damage."

"And the other geth just agreed to help?"

"They have agreed to join us and oppose the Old Machines. They are now us."

Shepard winced as Chakwas tested his reflexes. His leg moved but it felt as if he'd just finished running for hours under a heavy load. Rubbing the sore muscles of his thigh he address the geth once more.

"Then how did you stop the Reaper? If the geth could have just destroyed the Reaper coding with an organized attack then your people should never have fallen under their control."

"No data available."

That caused both of the humans to look at Legion. For its part the platform simply continued to stare at them impassively. Much to his surprise it was Chakwas who address the geth first.

"You fought a Reaper intelligence, Legion?"

"Upon reactivation of the dormant runtimes we were forced to act without consensus to preserve Shepard-Commander's existence. All processes were directed to combat the Old Machine threat by this platform."

Chakwas sighed. "It seems all of my patients are doing foolish things."

"This platform does not require medical assistance, Chakwas-Doctor," the geth stated.

"I am aware, but you spent enough time in the AI core behind my lab. I consider you an honorary patient. Now, for you, Commander... as best I can tell you're showing symptoms similar to a concussion. In addition you have significant muscle strain. I would assume at some point you experienced a seizure. Whatever exactly it was you did I would not suggest that it be repeated."

In his mind Shepard could still hear the Reaper's voice, the visions it had poured into his mind flashing behind his eyes. An endless litany of pain that began to blur together. One detail always stuck, though. The gun in his hand. He hadn't just seen the images that the Reaper had burned into his psyche, he had felt them. Felt the weight of the heavy pistol, smelled the tang of blood in the air. Heard the pained, desperate last breaths.

"Don't worry, that's not something I ever intend to let happen," he said firmly.

_Not while I'm alive. I won't wait as long as Saren did to do what's necessary._

Chakwas smiled, unaware of his thoughts.

"Good. You're going to be weak for the next twenty four to forty eight hours while your body recovers. I can't detect any permanent damage so a few days rest in your cabin should be fine. Let's get you back to the Normandy."

"Wait," the Spectre said, holding up a hand and turning to Legion. "What now? Your plan said we needed the programs here to destroy the Reaper base on Rannoch."

"We have re-initiated full contact with all geth outside the Rannoch system while in transit," Legion explained. "All units previously corrupted by Reaper control upgrades have had malicious code deleted and have agreed to join with us. Additional preparation will be necessary to facilitate a successful assault on the Creator homeworld."

"Preparations?"

The geth bobbed its optic. "Upgrades must be performed to allow us to bypass defenses of those geth controlled by the Old Machines. But we are prepared to oppose the Old Machines on all fronts. Geth Prime platforms and support units are available for deployment to contested worlds. In addition technological advances made by the geth will be made available to allied forces."

"Going all in, huh?" Garrus asked.

Shepard looked over to find the turian standing just inside the doorway with Tali right behind him. Geth ships apparently had amazingly quiet door mechanisms. If Legion was surprised by the question it didn't show any indication.

"Phrase: 'All in'. Related to games of chance involving monetary wagers, used by both human and turian culture. Typically meant to frighten off lesser opponents. Alternatively, a final attempt to stave off defeat with a single high risk wager," the geth platform quoted, the lower flaps of its face drawing together as if in thought. "We find this analogy apt. Yes, Officer-Vakarian. We are 'all in'."

"Then welcome to the war, Legion. I know a bunch of krogan and turians on Palaven that are going to be very surprised," Garrus said with an upward flex of his mandibles. "Grateful. But very surprised."

"For the first time in three hundred years your people will be seen as something over than an enemy," Tali added. "I only hope my people will have the same opportunity."

"We will succeed in retaking the homeworld, Creator Zorah," Legion assured her.

"How do you know, Legion? There are some many things that can happen... so many variables."

"Because... we believe it."

* * *

><p>The trip back to the Normandy was an uneventful one. Garrus had helped him limp to the shuttle under Chakwas' watchful eye. Legion had accompanied them, stating that it would be able to maintain the connection to the collective aboard the Normandy and coordinate the geth's efforts to assist in the war effort. The synthetic had explained that highly advanced mainframes would be needed to upgrade one of the geth's heavier dropships to allow the maximum number of free runtimes to pool their processing power. Exactly how this would prevent the Reaper signal from overriding their functions wasn't made completely clear but after Legion's display in the digital realm of the geth facility Shepard wasn't inclined to argue.<p>

His head throbbed dully but he could already feel some strength returning to his limbs. Legion's declaration of the geth's intent to aid in the war effort had at least seemed to raise everyone's spirits, the sole exception being Javik. It was the prothean's firm belief that synthetic life would turn on organic life without exception. The fact that the geth had already done so once during the Morning War only made him more assured of his position.

There was some logic to his argument, but they couldn't afford to turn down the geth's help even if he put stock in Javik's theory. They weren't winning this war, not by a long shot. Casualty reports climbed by the millions every day and entire colonies were going dark. While the bulk of their enemy's forces concentrated on Palaven and Earth there were still numerous forces assaulting locations across the galaxy. At least they could say that the Reapers were not being handed an easy victory. He'd seen reports of asari strike fleets utilizing their classic hit and run tactics against the enemy to great effect and Palaven still had not officially fallen. The Reapers controlled space but with the krogan fighting alongside the turians the ancient machines couldn't make the same claim for the ground despite their power.

But how long can we keep it up? he asked himself silently. They don't seem to consider us a significant threat even now, but eventually they'll turn their attention to the Citadel or dedicated attempt to run our fleets to ground.

"And... we're down," Cortez said over the comms. "Glad you didn't bring that geth fighter back, Legion. It was getting cramped in the hangar."

"Docking specifications allowed for point three eight meters on all sides, Pilot-Cortez," the synthetic replied.

"That's cramped for us."

"Understood. We will file this information under organic spatial considerations."

The shuttle doors opened and Chakwas stepped out with a final admonition.

"Your cabin, Commander. After twenty-four hours I'll examine you in medbay to determine how well you've recovered."

"I'm feeling better already, doc, honestly," he promised, pushing off the bench with a groan to stand shakily.

"It wasn't a request. I will ask EDI to put a medical lockdown on your door if it's necessary."

Shepard held up a hand. "That... won't be necessary."

He earned himself another stern look before Chakwas finally left, Legion following her out of the shuttle along with Javik. Placing a hand on the nearest bulkhead the Spectre took a step forward. His legs supported his weight but it was unsteady process at best. By the time Shepard had made it to door Cortez and the others were waiting expectantly.

"Ah, do you need some help, sir?" the pilot asked.

"I'll be fine, Cortez."

"Right," Garrus drawled. "So why don't you jump down from there?"

Shepard glanced down at the deck a foot or so below the lip of the shuttle's door. Shooting the turian an unamused look he braced himself and hopped down. In retrospect it was foolish, stubborn and would likely have gotten him dragged straight to the medbay if Chakwas hadn't already taken the elevator. His strained muscles immediately seized up and he felt his knees give out, only to have his fall arrested by a tight grip around his waist. The familiar hint of oil and leather told him it was Tali holding him off the ground before he even looked to his left.

"Son of a..." he hissed, trailing off as he ignored the frustrating weakness in his limbs.

"I'll take him up."

Garrus quirked a plated brow. "I've got a foot and thirty kilos on you, Tali. I would be easier for me to-"

"I said I will take our _bosh'tet _captain to his cabin," the engineer stated firmly. As if to make her claim clearer she reached down and picked up the harness with his sidearm hanging from it.

"Okay. Got it... I'll just update Hackett and the others," the turian said. "Assuming EDI lets me into the comm room."

EDI's hologram appeared on one of the nearby terminals.

"You have full access to the Normandy's facilities, Garrus."

"Well, there you go. I'll talk to the Admirals and whatever Wrex is, Tali drags you upstairs. I'll get us on course for the Citadel and follow up with Legion on what kind of tech he actually needs for this crazy plan. Cortez can stow your armor in your locker. Get some rest, Boss."

Garrus nodded curtly after that and left him in Tali's care. The argument had apparently already been settled without any input from him. Any other time it might have annoyed him, but it actually brought a slight smile to Shepard's lips. He had always known that Garrus would step up when the time came. A good soldier. A good friend.

The pair of them, human and quarian, didn't speak as they made their slow way to the elevator and then up to his cabin. He was forced to lean on Tali's slighter form more than he cared to admit, silently cursing the Reaper virus as he did. Every time she tightened her grip he could feel the press of her body through the undersuit that was his only clothing at the moment. It wasn't quite an embrace, not the same as others they'd shared, but it was intoxicating, in the same way a bottle called to an alcoholic.

"Here we are," Tali said quietly as they stepped into his cabin. "Ah, I see you got more fish..."

"Same fish. Kelly kept them for me," he muttered absently.

"Oh. That was nice of her. That explains why Urz is living under engineering too, I guess."

He nodded and let himself fall onto the couch with a relieved sigh.

"That was her. Thanks... for helping me up here," Shepard said. "Being this unsteady on my feet is frustrating. I'll be sure to comm Chakwas if I need anything."

Without even thinking about it he closed his eyes. His head throbbed even after the painkillers that Chakwas had given him and it felt like there was something always at the back of his mind. Something he needed to remember. He rubbed his hand across his face and opened his eyes to find Tali still standing there.

"Tali? I'm fine. Really... just tired. You can go, I'm sure you could use some downtime too."

"No, I don't think so."

Shepard frowned. "No?"

"You heard me."

"I don't know what you want, Tali," the Spectre replied tiredly. "But with the geth and... everything that happened today. Can't it wait?"

"What I want? I want you to talk to me," she shot back immediately. "And for the first time since I've been back on the Normandy I've got you in the same room for more than a few minutes."

His frown deepened further and he shook his head. Why now? She had been quiet and accepted things so far. He didn't have the patience or the will to argue with Tali now. There were still too many images lurking in the back of his mind. Promises of pain and betrayal. Fears of just what it all meant.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sorry, Tali. For everything... but I've been fighting a war."

"Yes, a war that you seem to think is your sole responsibility," Tali said harshly. "When they offered me the position of Admiral I thought of what you would do... I decided that I would try to make a difference. You spent so much time trying to make things better for people."

Hard as he tried he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"And your point?"

The quarian actually made a small growling sound of frustration, jabbing a finger at him.

"My point is that you never gave up. You made us all better, told us we could do more, be more than we were no matter what the galaxy said about us. You showed Garrus what it meant to be a leader, gave Wrex hope... you showed me that someone... that someone could care about me even with this between us. Even if it was only for a little while..."

Shepard's throat tightened when he heard the slight hitch in her voice. The gesture towards her mask wasn't needed, he knew instantly what she meant. But it still drove home her words. His hands balled into fists. All he wanted to do was reach out and tell her that he'd never stopped caring. He felt his grip on his stubbornness slipping even as he desperately tried to hold the wall up around himself.

"Tali... I never meant..."

She cut him off. "You changed and I don't know why. You won't talk to me... you wouldn't then and you won't now. You're still Commander Shepard. Hero of the Citadel. That's what everyone sees. And you just went on yet another mission that almost got you killed. Everyone knows that Bahak was destroyed and that something terrible happened... but why did it mean that you had to leave me behind? You left me on the Citadel then, just like you left Garrus and I behind today!"

"I didn't want to," the human whispered.

Tali dropped to her knees next to the couch and grabbed his hands, strong digits forcing his balled fists to uncurl in her grip. He didn't have the will to pull them away, instead feeling his eyes drawn to the glowing orbs that met his beneath the quarian's visor.

"Then why? What changed? What happened to the man that promised to always come back for me? The one that stayed by my bedside for days when I was hurt?" she demanded. "The one that trusted me..."

Every inch of his body was suddenly tense. Tali's tone, half angry, half pleading, drove into him deeper than any knife. He wanted to tell her to just go away. To go back to engineering and leave him where he was, alone and safely away from anyone else he might hurt. But she pushed. And pushed. And then finally he snapped, his voice coming out as almost a snarl. He wasn't angry at her, but at himself.

"He killed over a quarter of a million people!"

The three fingered hands that gripped his tensed.

"That wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" he asked. "I chose to set the asteroid on course for the relay. I knew what would happen when I did."

The quarian shook her head, not letting go. "I can't know what that decision was like, Shepard... but you once told me that sometimes a leader has to made hard decisions. Decisions that hurt."

Finally Shepard worked up the strength of body and will to pull his hands away, gripping the arm of the couch tightly and shoving himself to his feet. His stance was still unsteady but he couldn't sit there and look into Tali's eyes while he spoke, overriding her protests.

"It wasn't just a decision that cost people their lives, Tali! I was an idiot. I didn't stop Kenson, I didn't even figure it out until it was too late... and by then it was only minutes until the Reapers came through the relay. So I hit the goddamn button, I set the asteroid on course knowing that it would wipe out the entire system. I condemned thousands of people, batarians and their slaves, to death."

"People that the Reapers would have slaughtered the moment they came through the relay!" she countered. "It was terrible, but it bought the galaxy time!"

"Time for what?" he yelled. "Don't you understand? I turned myself in so the galaxy would have time to prepare! To be ready for what was coming. I've fought for so long. I've killed so many people... and look at us! We're no more ready than we were three years ago! The batarians are gone. Earth is burning... I killed three hundred thousand people. I left everyone... I left you behind... for nothing!"

Shepard wavered on his feet and Tali stepped closer, a hand steadying against his waist. Another touched his cheek and he leaned into it finally, trying to ignore the protests in his head, the incessant buzzing that drove him to distraction. One of his hands found her waist, fingers trailing against the smooth material of her suit. The soft give of her body beneath his fingertips.

"I was so angry at you for leaving me behind. But you you can't think all of this was for nothing," Tali whispered. "You've done everything you could."

"No, not everything," he replied bitterly. "I wonder if I could have done more. Why I didn't... but I know what I have to do now, Tali. I have to stop this, one way or the other."

"We are. We have plans, the Crucible, the geth... but you can't keep doing this alone! We see it in your eyes, in the way you act. Garrus, Kasumi... even Joker. He jokes about it but it sees it. How many times can you keep throwing yourself into the next fight until you don't come back?"

He shook his head and pulled back reluctantly, the simple act of letting go more difficult than anything he had accomplished in the past weeks. Everything told him to pull her closer and reach beneath her veil to pull away the mask that hid her away from the world. But all he could see in his mind's eye was that beautiful face staring lifelessly at the sky, blood staining her lips.

"I have to do this alone," he said reluctantly, turning to the side. "I can't make you understand but... somehow I've always known how this was going to end, Tali. I've fought for too long, survived too much. If we're going to win this war then I'm going to have to do more. I can't stop. Not for anything. And you can't... you can't share that burden. You should return to the Fleet. To your people."

Tali's eyes seemed to flash. She reached down and yanked the heavy pistol from its holster on the table, shoving it into his hands. He could hear the tears in her voice, even if he couldn't see them.

"If you want to die so badly, then why don't you just pull the trigger?" she asked.

"Tali, what-"

She shook her head. "I made a promise too, that I would stay with you until the end. That I would be there one way or the other when time ran out. So if you're so determined to die then you can shoot yourself... or you can shoot me. But I'm not leaving the Normandy. Not again."

It was as if a switch had been flipped in his head. The gun shook in his hand. Pain shot through his head as memory and reality blurred. A smoking gun, the smell of blood. He looked around the room frantically even as Tali took a step closer and just for an instant he swore he saw a turian face in his reflection against the glass of the fish tank.

_One simple act. The first step._

"You... you need to go," he stammered.

_So easy._

"I'm not going anywhere. Did you not hear what I just said? I'm done letting you drive me away!"

_Submit._

"No!"

"John?" The anger was gone now. Confusion. Concern.

_It is inevitable. Accept your fate.  
><em>

When Shepard looked up and saw himself in the gleam of her mask he didn't recognize the face staring back. It was lined and hard, eyes distant. Unfocused. Laughter echoed in his head. Familiar laughter, throaty and deep, tinged with malice. He covered his face with his free hand.

"G-Get out!"

"What's wrong... tell me..." Tali pleaded. "John, please-"

_One by one. I told you... I told you..._

"I... s-said... no!"_  
><em>

Shepard roared and threw the pistol as hard as he could across the room. The handgun tumbled end over end, impacting the display case over his desk with a resounding crash. Glass scattered in every direction. The fire crawled under his skin again and sang in his head. Tali hesitated and he lunged forward, seizing her by her shoulders with strength he hadn't possessed minutes before. She gave a cry of surprise as he lifted her bodily off her feet and pulled her across the room. His fist slammed against the door release.

"Go... go!"

He shoved her past the threshold and jabbed the controls, the door snapped shut between them. Shepard dropped to his knees and retched on an empty stomach. Visions pounded in his head even as his body heaved and twitched. This wasn't a dream. He longed for it to be one, more than anything he longed to wake up. But it wasn't.

_Your resistance only prolongs the inevitable._

With extreme effort he dragged himself across the floor, foot by foot, until he reached the small table at the side of his bed. He yanked the drawer open and fumbled inside, finally finding the item he was looking for. A simple injector. He'd purchased it on the Citadel, a stop gap measure to help him gain a few hours of dreamless sleep. Enough to continue to function. Shepard jammed the injector in his thigh and pressed the button.

"I'll... never..."

His words faded, as did the visions. Sleep drove away everything and for once he embraced it. Within his dreams he could only torment himself.

* * *

><p><em>Well, I did say I was going to try and get this one out sooner! Doing my best to knock out a few more before I take a couple week hiatus while I'm out of town. Of course the next few chapters are also rather cliffhangery... so I might just be a bad person ;)<em>

_As always a thanks to my beta readers and others that have (and are) helping me!_


	16. Chapter 15: Choices

Chapter 15: Choices

_"We both knew it would end like this, Shepard."_

_The air smells acrid, burning his nose. There are no fires smoldering as he looks around, not anymore - just an endless plain of ruin and ash. Irregular forms, the shattered remnants of buildings, occasionally break up the bleak tableau. Gravestones, not for individuals, but for entire worlds._

_"You could have stopped all of this. If you hadn't hated us so much, you could have seen the signs," he counters._

_Saren laughs. His face is still the same ruin Shepard remembers, the shattered plates and dried blood, the same gaping hole. But, for once, the turian's voice doesn't carry the weight of malice and scorn that he always identified with the fallen Spectre. It's a far more bitter sound._

_"Don't be stupid. I would have joyfully put you apes in your place, but not at the cost of my own people. We were both soldiers... I took the path that would save the turian people. And by the time I realized where it led I was too far gone to change."_

_"But you did. At the end you made a choice. To die free."_

_"That's always the choice isn't it, Shepard? I wonder which one you'll make?" the turian muses._

_He shakes his head. "I know where my loyalties lie. I won't betray them. Not now, not ever."_

_The malice returns and Saren's broken mandible flexes oddly as he tries to smile._

_"Ever?"_

_A sudden gust of wind sends ashes whirling in the air before they abruptly cease, the fog of fine dust settling to reveal Tali's form laying in the dirt. Her hand clutches her side, life fluids leaking between her fingers while her mask is a few feet away. A spiderweb of cracks mar its surface and there is terror in the young quarian's eyes._

_"Why, John?" she rasps. "I l-loved you..."_

_He blinks, trying to reach for her but it feels as if he's moving through a wall of viscous fluid._

_"Tali... no, I wouldn't... I wouldn't hurt you. I swear!"_

_But she doesn't hear. Somewhere else another scene is playing out and her eyes look through him. Tears streak down her smooth gray skin as her voice cracks with pain._

_"Please... please don't! I don't understand! We're your friends... why would you hurt us..."_

_The quarian's form jerks and she screams, another splash of blood blossoming across the front of her environment suit. Shepard cries out and pushes himself forward with every ounce of his strength only to have the resistance abruptly disappear. He falls forward, trying to gather up the dying quarian in his arms only to have her dissolve into ash the moment he touches her, leaving the man on his hands and knees in the dust._

_"No... that - It didn't happen!" Shepard yells. "I sent her away!"_

_"Are you sure?" Saren asks. "She's still on your ship. You felt the rage, the pain, the urges... that part in the back of your mind that just screams for you to end it now. To take the bliss that's offered."_

_"That's not bliss! It's servitude!"_

_"Is there a difference? Give in and there is no more pain. No more fear... just certainty. Absolute freedom from the fragile existence of organic kind. Is it not preferable to annihilation and torment?"_

_He growls, slamming his fist into the dirt. "The price is too high."_

_"You won't think so when the time comes," the fallen Spectre says. "Eventually you'll welcome it. The more you fight, the worse it becomes."_

_"S-Shepard..." a voice utters behind him, a bizarre synthetic stutter in its voice. "You h-have to-"_

_Pushing himself to his feet, Shepard turns, only to stagger backwards as clawed hands reach for him. The thing used to be turian, but it had long since changed almost beyond recognition. Thick cables ran in and out of the flesh between plates, while large portions of its face was made up of raw metal. There were no eyes, not anymore. Just a uneven collection of balefully glowing optics. The optics spark and flicker, flashing between red and blue as the Marauder's entire body convulses._

_"I don't understand what... what do you want?" he pleads, still backing away._

_"Please... B-Boss... K-kill... me..."_

_His mouth hangs open in horror, eyes wide. "Garrus?"_

_"P-p-p-please... k-" the abomination tries to beg._

_Another convulsion wracks its tortured frame. The optics that dot his face cease to flicker, glowing a steady red and the suddenly the thing that used to be his friend lunges for him with talons outstretched. Just as the tips rake against his skin the apparition collapses into another collection of formless ash to dissipate in the wind._

_"Enough!"_

_The tortured Spectre staggers backwards, waving away the dust and ash._

_"It's never enough, Shepard. I warned you. The Reapers are machines, but they are ancient, twisted... cruel. Cruel in a way only a machine can be. You can't keep running from them."_

_There is a sudden moment of clarity, one where the world around him stops shifting and spinning. Saren snaps into focus, standing there just Shepard remembers him, a gray statue with icy blue eyes. For the first time he's able to stop the flood of visions and torments._

_"This is a dream... this isn't real," he says, as if testing the statement. "I don't have to play this game."_

_Saren's one good mandible quirks upward._

_"You still think you're the one playing the game? Or are you just one of the pieces?"_

_"I won't be used. I won't let them turn me against the people I love."_

_"Then it sounds like to me you've made a choice," the turian replies. "Serve. Or die. Those are the only choices the Reapers offer."_

_His head feels fuzzy once more but he struggles to hold onto his focus. "You keep saying the Reapers... 'they'... 'them'... you're just a figment. A dream, a piece of my subconscious... the face my brain puts on their words!"_

_Once more Saren's laughter rings in his ears._

_"Maybe I am. Or maybe you finally pumped enough of those drugs into your system to make you see clearly..."_

_Around him the mercurial wind picks up again. He can taste the dirt in his mouth, the plains of ash turning into a storm around him and obscuring everything from view. As the howling intensifies and his hearing fades, Saren's voice cuts through the din._

_"Make the choice, Shepard..."_

"He's awake!"

For the first time in recent memory Shepard's body didn't awaken from one of his nightmares like he'd just had an electric current run through him. Instead he slowly opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing at his face. He looked around the room, trying to place where he was. Bright, clean. Multiple beds. He was in the med lab. The now ever present throbbing behind his eyes made the light seem unpleasantly harsh.

"Easy, Shepard," Chakwas ordered, appearing at his elbow.

"How did I-"

"Medical overrides. We found you passed out on the floor of your cabin after Tali commed me in a panic," the doctor informed him quietly, gesturing towards the quarian that was barely restraining herself a few feet away.

Memory flashed back to him. The conversation in his cabin. Her concern, the intoxicating feel of her closeness. That dull ache in his chest that never seemed to go away and then the visions overtaking him. He remembered practically dragging her to the door, throwing her out. Just looking at her he couldn't help but wince.

"I remember falling asleep."

"Yes, I suspect this can likely be blamed for that."

An injector fell into his lap, empty now. Chakwas' voice was taut and disapproving.

"The amount of etomidate in that injector was enough to kill any levo-based lifeform on this ship even considering the nano-regulated release. That is not a sleep aid, Commander. It's a damned anaesthetic!"

"I'm aware of that," he replied evenly.

"Yet you used to for that purpose?"

It wasn't really a question, Chakwas had already known the answer before he'd even awakened. But he nodded anyway.

"How often?"

"Once or twice a week. I'll use one quarter of the dosage, I usually manage to get four hours or so," Shepard explained, doing his best not to sound like a child that had been caught stealing from the liquor cabinet. "Originally I was using twenty percent of the injector but I guess I built up a tolerance and had to increase the amount."

"Insanity," the doctor muttered in frustration.

"Shepard," Tali interjected. "What happened last night?"

Chakwas nodded and fixed him with a stare. "Another excellent question. I checked you out aboard Legion's ship, your vitals were normal. But your quarters were a disaster when I arrived."

Shepard looked between the two women and sighed internally. It would be so simple to tell them, to explain what he had seen to two healers. One that had patched up his broken body time and again, the other that given his soul something to cling to like a drowning man in a storm. But it would mean explaining the visions. Describing Tali lying broken on the ground, Saren's urgings, the ruined landscapes and haunting whispers. He could just imagine the look in their eyes. After all this time they would still only see a man slipping into madness.

"I... don't know. It must have been a residual effect from my encounter in the geth server," he lied.

"You were babbling, Shepard. Like there was someone else there," the quarian urged. "You kept saying things. And then you threw your gun-"

He frowned. "It's all a little... blurry, Tali. I remember you putting the gun in my hands, though."

It was the quarian's turn to bear Chakwas' silent scrutiny, the doctor looked to her and arched a brow.

"I was just trying to make a point," Tali said crossly.

Chakwas' brow remained raised. "It must have been quite the point."

"It was. Doctor, could you give us a moment, please?"

"Of course. He seems to be conscious with no ill effects, though I'll be keeping a close eye on him for the near future," the doctor said. "Stay off your feet until I clear you."

Then she was gone. Silence hung in the room, Tali's shimmering eyes watching him thoughtfully behind her visor. Finally she sighed and stepped closer to his side. One of her three fingered digits found his larger one, squeezing tightly.

"Tell me what happened..."

"I already told you both. It must have been a side effect of the mission with Legion."

It was technically true. Whatever had happened within the indefinable realm that had his mind had inhabited it had given rise to something in him. But the voice that had been whispering in the back of his mind had been with him far longer. To his surprise a tired laugh come from the quarian next to him.

"You always knew when something was wrong with me. When I couldn't sleep on the original Normandy, when I was feeling homesick."

Tali cocked her head squeezed his hand once more.

"You're not the only one that learned, though. Even Garrus might have went along with that lie, but he was never there to hear you cry out in your sleep. Or when you woke up reaching for a gun."

Just hearing the word, picturing the weapon in his hand, made pain shoot through his skull but he pushed it aside. Unlike most Shepard could claim to have felt the pain of death. After that everything else seemed far less significant. These days every joint ached, old scars felt inflamed, all it seemed to compliment the pain in his head. Instead he simply looked away. The medical bay windows had been darkened for his privacy it appeared.

"Maybe... someday soon," he replied noncommittally.

"Soon? I'm sorry for what happened, whatever it was. Putting the gun in your hands was a stupid gesture but you can't keep this up, Shepard. You have to see that."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. That was the Tali he knew. He had acted insane, practically threatened her and thrown her from his quarters and she ignored all it to worry about him. Shepard pulled his hand away from hers and reached up to touch the side of her mask.

"It's not that easy, Tali."

"_Kal'tass_!"

The Spectre looked at the her curiously. "That... didn't translate at all."

"Because it's even less polite than _bosh'tet_," Tali replied sternly. "I won't watch you keep doing this. Driving yourself to exhaustion? Taking drugs to sleep? You're punishing yourself out of some kind of misguided guilt for no reason!"

His expression tightened. "There's always a reason. I've tried to be a good man all my life, Tali. A good soldier. A good Spectre. Sometimes I succeeded, or at least I hope I did. But this isn't about my my life. It's about stopping the Reapers. That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"And everyone else on this ship doesn't have the same goal? What makes it your sole responsibility?"

"It became my sole responsibility when I touched that bloody beacon. When centuries of watching the galaxy burn got shoved into my head in a matter of seconds!" he snapped, the vehemence in his voice actually causing Tali to physically recoil.

"I know what you saw-"

He ground his teeth, voice a hiss. "No, you don't. You don't seen the half of it. Everything we've witnessed, every vid feed and news report? Every horror story that you've heard? They all pale in comparison to what comes next. The only person on this ship, in this galaxy even, that understands that is the prothean brooding in the cargo hold. Right now the Reapers are destroying us by inches. Conquering our homeworlds. Destroying fleets."

Sometime while he slept the cybernetics in his body had done their work. There was no weakness when the Spectre pushed himself up off the bed and placed his feet on the floor. In the reflection in the polarized glass of the medbay he could see the lines on his face, the bitter expression as he finally gave voice to the torrent of atrocities that had lived in his mind for three long years. Shepard had always told her that he dreamed of the prothean visions. Not of what they contained.

To her credit Tali didn't avoid his gaze when his eyes locked with hers.

"They haven't turned their attention to the galaxy as a whole. You haven't seen what happens when everything breaks down. Entire races turning on one another in desperation like cannibals. Some of them try to submit. They betray everything and welcome the Reapers hoping to save themselves with subservience only to be harvested just like everyone else. Others go completely mad. They make sacrifices on altars like the machines are some kind of dark gods. They kill their children, their friends, their lovers... all to save themselves. And every year it marches on. Worlds die and the Reapers warp people in new horrors to inflict upon the ones that are left."

He turned away and leaned on the nearby bed, head bowed. In every small movement and intake of breath Shepard had seen the slow dawning of understand in the quarian's body language. It wasn't something he wanted to watch sink in. But even then he didn't think she could really comprehend.

"The protheans held on for centuries. They left entire star systems to die screaming to save others. And it didn't matter. The sacrifice of billions of lives didn't do more than buy them a few more years. Javik's people were ruthless on a scale that even the batarians would be appalled by. So when you ask why it's my responsibility... because it has to be until I can't take it anymore. Because someday someone might have to stand at a cusp and make a choice that will condemn not just a world but an entire species to extinction."

A hand hesitantly rested on his shoulder as he tried to conceal the way his body shuddered at the memories.

"I'm sorry, John, I didn't know. You never told me."

"Because telling you wouldn't change the truth. It would just give you the same pain."

"Did you never think that maybe I wanted it? To be a part of all of your life, even the parts that hurt?" she whispered behind him.

Shepard could feel her movement behind him. Another hand touched his waist as the quarian drew herself closer. He could hear the sound of her veil rustling with each shift of her body and finally felt the warmth as she embraced him from behind. Visions swam in his head but he remained still. If he didn't turn and look at her maybe he could find a few, fleeting moments of comfort.

"Shepard. I apologize for the interruption but there is an emergency message from Urdnot Wrex," EDI's voice said over the intercom. Both of them jumped slightly, the AI's voice jarring after the near silence.

"Tell him... tell him I'll be right there."

Tali pulled away and she was looking at him with concern from the way she held her hands.

"Chakwas doesn't even want you to leave the medbay."

He shook his head.

"I'll be fine. Anything Wrex considers an emergency can't wait for a doctor's note. I just hope Tuchanka isn't under attack, this war doesn't need yet another front. We can... talk later."

"You can't keep running away, John," the quarian stated firmly.

Shepard stopped in his tracks, the echo of his dreams sending a fresh shiver down his spine. With what will he had left he mustered a soft smile for the woman that was trying her best to save him from an enemy she couldn't understand.

"I wouldn't even know what direction to run in."

* * *

><p>Tali had never quite understood Shepard's obsession with hitting inanimate objects when he was angry. Until now that was. Now she suddenly found herself with a much clearer grasp on the concept after a frustrating and frightening evening, following by an only somewhat better morning. Unlike the object of both her affection and frustration, however, she lacked regenerative cybernetic implants that would let her heal up rapidly from punching the nearest bulkhead.<p>

So instead she stood outside the medbay and watched the Spectre disappear into the elevator. There had been a brief moment when she felt like she had finally gotten past whatever wall the man had put up. At the very least the quarian had finally gotten him to admit something, even if it was just the severity of the visions that clearly plagued him, but for every bit of progress it felt like she was forced two steps back.

"You just want to hit him, don't you?"

Tali looked to her left in surprise to see Liara leaning against the bulkhead just outside her office.

Her relationship with the asari was an odd one. Aboard the original Normandy they'd been friendly, if only out of necessity. The only two of their species, both female and young by the standards of their cultures. She had been jealous of Liara's relationship with Shepard, followed by anger at the asari's sudden change in personality following Shepard's resurrection. And under it all was the current of uneasiness, the threat that Liara would always pose in her mind. She had been with Shepard before. Young, beautiful, and most importantly not trapped in a suit. It had only been after the events aboard the Shadow Broker's vessel that some of their old friendship had rekindled.

"Yes, stubborn the _bosh'tet_," she agreed, then cocked her head, frowning beneath her mask. "If you're thinking it too why haven't you said anything?"

The asari looked sadly in the direction Shepard had gone. "We'll always be friends, Tali. But I don't think I'll ever be as close to Shepard again as you and Garrus are. We've both changed too much."

"You'll always been part of the original crew, Liara. I think... for us that's as good as family. But right now it doesn't matter how close to him we are. He keeps pushing me away and I don't understand why. It's almost like he's... angry that I'm trying to to help him."

"Knowing Shepard, I doubt it's out of any kind of anger at you," Liara assured her, moving closer and resting a hand on the quarian's suited arm.

"Then what?" she complained. "You didn't see him last night, Liara. It was like he was arguing with himself. And then drugs. Chakwas said it was some kind of..."

"Etomidate. It's a general anesthetic. The more... chemically dependent have taken to using nano-infused time release dosages to put themselves under when their own biological systems have become unbalanced due to extreme drug abuse."

"You... you knew?"

"Shepard bought the drugs from one of my agents. He's normally resourceful but buying regulated substances was beyond his usual skill set. Rather than let him wander around and possible obtain something more dangerous I... arranged for him to meet a 'legitimate' supplier."

"How could you?" she hissed. "Not only knowing, but actually... encouraging it?"

"I didn't encourage anything," the scientist turned Shadow Broker countered immediately. "But if there is one thing I've learned since you two found me on Therum, it's that there are few perfect solutions."

Tali's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Then what would you call it, then? 'Medical assistance'?"

"You've been back aboard for a matter days, Tali. You haven't seen him sitting in the mess hall with a datapad, staring at it for minutes at a time without changing the page. Drinking energy drinks because his body processes coffee to quickly. Trying to do anything but sleep. I don't know what he sees when he sleeps but... the etomidate seemed the lesser evil."

Her anger faded immediately as the engineer was reminded of the conversation she'd just had, the things that Shepard had described seeing in his dreams. After the Normandy's destruction and Shepard's death she had woken with nightmares for weeks. The idea that Liara would arrange for Shepard to get his hands on something so dangerous still bothered her, but it was hard to argue in light of what she'd heard in Shepard's voice.

"The protheans..."

"What?"

She shakes her head. "I think that's what he sees. The visions the beacon gave him."

"I only saw flashes when I touched his mind aboard the old Normandy. Even those were... horrific. Full of fire and screams of the dying."

The two women stood in silence for a moment, deep in thought. It might explain the why, but it didn't offer a solution to fix the problem. No matter what she did Tali couldn't change what Shepard dreamt. Especially when it was difficult just to keep him alone in the same room. She looked to Liara and sighed.

"So what now then?"

"I don't know, Tali," Liara said with a shrug. "I've spent so much time watching, studying, and observing. First the protheans, now as the Broker. But it hasn't made the actual decision to act any easier. You'd think as the most powerful information broker in the galaxy I would have better advice. Instead I find myself as helpless as everyone else."

Tali was unable to suppress a giggle at the absurdity of their situation, earning herself a confused look from her asari companion. Holding up a hand she collected herself.

"I wasn't laughing at you. It's just ridiculous. Three years ago I was on my Pilgrimage and you were a young archaeologist," she explained. "Now you're the Shadow Broker and, Keelah, I'm an Admiral! But we still don't know what we're doing."

"When you say it like that... it is rather absurd isn't it?" Liara laughed and shook her head.

"It is. And it was either laugh at it or cry."

The asari squeezed her arm once more and looked to be about say more when EDI's voice interrupted their conversation.

"Doctor T'Soni, Tali. Shepard has requested all members of the ground team to report to the war room immediately."

"What's wrong, EDI?" she asked.

"Commander Shepard has requested that I allow him to explain the current situation."

The two looked at each other and moved for the elevator immediately. EDI had become the first place most of the crew went to for information about everything from the location of different crew members to the status of the current mission. Her ability to be everywhere at once aboard, being the ship itself, meant she heard everything first. It also meant that whatever was going on was serious enough that Shepard had given her specific orders not to disseminate that information. A dozen scenarios ran through Tali's head. It couldn't be the Fleet. She would have been alerted immediately. Another homeworld? The Citadel?

Unlike previously, the checkpoint between the war room and the rest of the ship was unmanned and the scanner remained inert. The pair entered the war room to find many of the crew already there. EDI's physical body was standing with perfect posture to one side while Javik leaned over the large display at the center of the room. Legion was watching everything from its place on the outer ring, the synthetic feeling no need for the close contact that organics gravitated towards. Shepard himself didn't seem to be present until she noticed the glowing red indicator on the door to the comm room.

A minute or so later the doors behind her opened to reveal Garrus and Kasumi. As always Garrus was in his armor, but Kasumi was wearing what could only be described as pajamas. Some kind of top and loose, flowing pants made of a very smooth looking material that the suit-bound quarian suspected would have felt amazing to touch. In some effort to maintain her image Kasumi had appropriated a jacket and pulled the hood up. For a moment Tali's worry abated, replaced by amusment as she moved closer to the thief.

"I did not realize humans were so... casual."

Kasumi stuck her tongue out in her direction. "EDI made it sound like an emergency so I didn't bother changing."

"Which doesn't really answer the question why you're wearing that at zero nine hundred hours in the morning," Garrus interjected, earning him a sour look from the thief.

"Some of us don't sleep in thirty pounds of armor and wake up to calibrate their damn gun at some inhumane hour of the morning."

"Zero nine hundred isn't 'inhumane'. It's called normal."

"Just be quiet or I'll put itching powder in that armor then you'll _have_ to get out of it," the smaller woman shot back.

Garrus shook his head. "Let's be honest, you really just want to get me out of my armor. You can admit it. I'm used to the attention by now."

"You can only dream, Scars. Fornax wouldn't give you a job if you worked for free."

"Ouch. My pride. And really, back to Vega's nickname?"

"The others wouldn't stick. So that's the one you get."

"Maybe I should start calling you 'Sleepy'?"

She watched the the thief and former C-Sec officer with no small amusement. Apparently the pair had been working together a great deal more since rejoining the Normandy if the back and forth was any indication. It was made only more entertaining by the fact that the armored turian had a foot on the human, making the contrast all the more noticeable.

At last Kasumi turned away from the turian and addressed Tali.

"I'm ignoring him now. Do you know what's going on?"

The quarian shook her head. "No. EDI said that Shepard wanted to tell us himself and apparently he wanted to tell the entire team at once."

Vega entered last, making some comment in that very fluid language that wasn't loaded into her translator when he saw Kasumi's state of dress. She replied in kind and the soldier laughed. A few more minutes of silence passed and the room began to feel restless when the door to the comm room finally opened. Shepard exited and moved to the railing around the war room, looking at the assembled group.

"I asked you all to come because there is information that you need to hear from me directly. A few people in this room know what I'm about to tell you already. Outside that circle of trust only a few select members of the Alliance and the Council itself knows this information."

She glanced to her side and got a confused look from Garrus who could only shrug. At the railing Shepard looked down for a moment before pushing himself away and standing with his hands clasped behind him.

"During the original hunt for Saren we encountered a number of unique and dangerous situations. I made decisions that would have far reaching consequences," the Spectre explained. "One of those decisions took place on Noveria. In his madness Saren Arterius discovered a dormant rachni egg and tried to engineer an army from the resulting queen."

Tali's eyes widened and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Of all the things that had run through her memory that particular one had been missed. It felt like a lifetime ago that they had faced the scuttling creatures in the frozen halls of Noveria's Peak 15.

"The rachni?" Javik asked suddenly. "I have seen your records, they survived into this cycle, but were wiped out. We burned countless worlds in an attempt to exterminate them in my cycle."

"Everyone thought the same thing. The egg that Saren found was the last viable egg in existence, the very last rachni. The public was made aware, in a limited fashion, that a rogue agent had attempted to clone rachni warriors," Shepard said.

"The smaller creatures are feral without a queen to control them."

"So they learned. What the public was not made aware of was that the rachni were not clones. The scientists on Noveria hatched the egg that Saren found and raised a queen. When we defeated Saren's... agent at the facility the queen spoke to me. She asked that she be given a chance for her people to live again. I wasn't willing to condemn an entire species to extinction a second time and released her."

"Wait, you mean the bugs that the krogan got uplifted to fight in the first place are still around?" Vega asked.

Javik's voice almost drowned out the marine's question before he could finish asking it.

"You let the creatures live? Madness. The rachni were a threat even to my people at the height of our power. Among your own kind it took the most advanced species in your galaxy raising up a new warrior race to defeat them."

"The queen told me that the rachni of the past had been driven mad by something. A compulsion to lash out," the Spectre explained levelly. "Now I suspect it was the Reapers or one of their agents at work. Either way, it's irrelevant now. Sixteen hours ago this transmission was received from a krogan recon team."

The main display blinked on and for a moment there was only static. Then an image sprang to life, a krogan face staring into the imaging device while the sound of weapons fire echoed in the room.

_This is Urdnot Charr, Recon Squad! We've found something here... it looks like something from the old stories! Tunnels and webs... we made something angry. Under heavy attack. The Reapers' creatures are here. We cannot hold. The rest of the company will hide the weapons and then face the enemy. I am uploading the transponder for the weapons cache... do not underestimate the creatures._

A grim smirk appeared on the krogan's lips and he looked over his shoulder for a moment. The warrior thumped his chest once.

_"I will never see Tuchanka's dusty soil again, but I will defend it. I can only hope the seeds that I have planted flourish in its harsh sun. Glory to Clan Urdnot and glory to the krogan!"_

The image continued to run, the sound of gunfire intensifying. Tali could hear krogan yelling orders, roars of pain and piercing screeches. Krogan warriors ran past the camera carrying heavy cases and the entire room took a breath as something with multiple legs scuttled into view. Its form was bloated and twisted, but the shape was unmistakable; a rachni warrior. Fire erupted from the barrels that were grafted where the long feelers should have been and the image froze.

"Aralakh company will be meeting us on the ground," Shepard said after a moment of silence. "These aren't just the rachni. That was Reaper technology. I don't think I need to explain what would happen if the Reapers had an entire rachni army twisted into more of these things."

"How do we know they don't already have one?" Garrus asked.

"Because if they did we'd likely have already seen it. Before their arrival Sovereign and Harbinger schemed and plotted. But now that they're here the Reapers as a whole have been anything but subtle. If they had a rachni horde to unleash, they would have done so already, even if only to counter the krogan on Palaven."

"In other words we're assuming they don't because if they do we're already screwed," Kasumi added dryly.

"I'm afraid so. This isn't going to be a quick in and out mission. When we encountered the rachni before they were feral and dangerous, now it looks as if at least some of them have been turned into some kind of husk creature," the Spectre said. "EDI, you wanted the chance to test out the combat capabilities of that platform? Here it is. We'll be in orbit of Utukku in eighteen hours."

"Time to squash some bugs," Vega said cheerfully.

From beside her Garrus rumbled in amusement.

"Bring a big boot, Vega. A really, really big boot."

* * *

><p>"What's with the armor, Shepard?"<p>

The Spectre pulled down his helm and snapped the seals into place. He shifted his arms experimentally, adjusting to the heavier weight before turning towards Garrus. Rather than the sleek prototype armor that he'd been gifted by Kasumi and Liara he was wearing a suit of heavy, layered Defender assault armor that was a completely uniform matte black. The design was often issued to N7 soldiers expected to encounter the heaviest resistance on the front lines.

"The other suit is..." he spared a look towards the other armor with its dented and patched appearance. "It's on its last legs. Once we return to the Citadel it'll need to spend some time at a proper armorer's."

"Does look like it's seen better days," the turian agreed.

"Haven't we all."

He lifted one of the pair of M-76 light machine guns off the wall and checked the thermal capacity. Somewhere between setting foot on Eden Prime and the first Reaper touching down on Earth, Shepard had stopped being just a sniper, which in this situation wasn't a terrible thing. Heading underground wasn't likely to present many opportunities for precision strikes. No, this was a far more messy situation; one that could have been prevented if he'd simply destroyed the rachni queen when he'd had the chance.

Garrus gestured at the heavy weapon. "That bad, huh?"

"You were at Peak 15. You know how dangerous the rachni were when they were just feral killers. Now they've been tampered with by the Reapers. Turned into weapons," Shepard said bitterly.

"I stood by your decision when you decided the save the queen, Shepard. I'm not changing my opinion now."

Apparently Garrus was thinking the same thing he was. He gave his turian friend a nod of thanks and tossed a Vindicator to him.

"Here, I seem to recall you being fond of these before."

"It's like telling an artist to use a spray can instead of a brush, but it'll do," the vigilante replied with a smirk.

Shepard grabbed the next weapon that was hanging on the wall just above the Revenants. One of the new designs that Hackett had been able to send their weapon before their supply lines had become too fragmented, the M-79 Typhoon was as large as a support machine gun could get and still be considered man portable. When they reached the rest of the waiting team he dropped the large gun into Vega's surprised hands.

"Stow your M-8 and grab an extra bandolier of thermals," he ordered.

The younger marine grinned as if he'd been told Christmas was coming twice this year. "Yes, sir."

"Load up."

The shuttles slipped from the Normandy's hangar a few minutes later. A nondescript brown planet spun below the orbiting frigates. Shepard had been surprised to find a turian frigate in system when they had arrived, only to learn that it had been assigned to transport the krogan's Aralakh company on orders from Primarch Victus. It seemed it took sentient, malevolent starships and the return of the rachni to make ancient enemies into allies.

As they made their way into the atmosphere, strong winds buffeted the shuttle. Their sensors had shown that the planet was technically a garden world, but only by the most generous definition. Ever present winds and temperatures that would fluctuate between scorchingly hot to far below freezing made it an unpleasant place. He could hear the winds howling even through the thick hull of the shuttle as they touched down.

"You always take us to the nicest places," Kasumi muttered, hopping down onto the coarse dirt.

"Battlemaster! Ha ha!"

Shepard looked up to see Grunt jogged towards them, nearly two dozen krogan in full armor standing behind him. He greeted the massive krogan with a firm hand clasp.

"Grunt. Didn't expect to find you here."

The tank-bred krogan shrugged. "Someone had to run Aralakh company. These lot think they're invincible. Tough, but reckless."

"Sounds familiar," Tali added.

"Ah! The small quarian with the big attitude, come to fight again," Grunt laughed. "Good, this is starting to feel like old times already."

"Old times didn't include the rachni, Grunt. If they're under Reaper control... we have to make sure that this ends on this planet."

Grunt gestured at the krogan soldiers.

"I understand, Battlemaster. The rest of Aralakh company is already on the move. Teams Two and Three are locating the heavy weapon caches left behind by the recon team. I decided to wait until you arrived to head into the main entrance. But the rachni... a chance to face the old enemy? Impossible to resist."

"You should not be so eager to face the rachni, young krogan," Javik said. "They were formidable opponents. Even to my people."

"Who in the hell are you?"

"The one who took your place aboard the Normandy. You are the one that occupied my quarters... full of energy and rage."

"What in the hell is he talking about, Shepard?" Grunt asked, looking at the prothean carefully. "That's the... prothean Wrex was talking about?"

"Long story, Grunt, and we don't have the time. What about these scouts? Any survivors?"

"None. Come on, you can see for yourself."

The assembled krogan made a few grunts and growls at the mismatched band that joined them, but any dissension was silenced by a single look from Grunt. The Spectre suspected that the younger krogan had been forced to crack more than a few skulls before they'd accepted his command, but it looked like they had learned that lesson already. It didn't take long for them to reach what remained of the recon team's camp.

Camp might have been a strong word. A single prefab building was all that remained, marred by scorch marks and dried blood. Random pieces of debris were scattered everywhere but there were no bodies to be found. The edge of the area where the recon team had established their base of operations terminated in a steep drop, one that obviously hadn't been there when the team had arrived judging from the collection of wreckage at the bottom of the hole.

"Burrowers. The rachni were quite adept at laying traps in my time," Javik observed. "Swarms of the workers were capable of undermining the foundations of a road or building within minutes."

"But where are the krogan?" Kasumi asked.

"Hypothesis: rachni data would indicate that the creatures are omnivorous. It is possible the fallen were taken as a possible food source," Legion suggested.

The thief made a disgusted sound.

"EDI, can you get anything from the computers in the prefab?" Shepard asked.

"If there are active terminals I might be able to search for any relevant data."

"Let's see what we can find. I'd rather find out more about these things before we go charging into them."

While the others searched the area for anything of use, Shepard and EDI entered the remaining building. The inside was in no better shape. More dried blood coated numerous surfaces and there were noticeable places where the polymer and metal walls had been melted. EDI's visor glowed as she scanned for any active power sources.

"Shepard, there's nothing giving off so much as a single watt of power outside. Every single piece of equipment has been melted, bashed, or blasted," Liara said from behind him.

Tali's voice followed after. "Definitely intentional. Even vorcha couldn't wreck some of these electronics this badly by accident."

The pair were looking forlornly down at the edge of the prefab where the rest of the camp had fallen. He sighed internally. So much for trying to find out exactly what they were up against. Still, it had been worth the chance.

"Tali and Dr. T'soni's assessment holds true here as well. I am detecting no active power sources within the building," EDI agreed, moving to the edge and looking down into the sinkhole. "I am not registering any active power sources below either. There is a ninety eight per-"

The synthetic's calculation was cut off suddenly as the metal floor moved beneath their feet and cries of alarm were heard from outside. He could already feel the entire building beginning to list, the shaking floor causing them all to stumble and grab onto the walls.

"Jump, EDI!" Shepard barked as the building pitched to the side.

With a surge that made even his enhanced muscles burn Shepard threw himself against gravity and the bucking pre-fab to tackle both Tali and Liara out of the building. All three hit the dirt walls of the sink hole hard, various grunts and hissed curses of pain mixing together with the rumbling of the ground. He tumbled and slid down the embankment even as the building finally fell crashing down after them, narrowly missing them as it slammed into the ground below.

"Everyone-" he paused, coughing up a throat full of dust before continuing. "Is everyone okay?"

"Did you really need to throw us out of the building into the hole we were already falling into?" Tali groaned.

EDI emerged from the dust with perfect poise. A small collapse and jump into a hole in the ground weren't enough to interfere with the AI's calm it seemed. Now that they were down here, Shepard could see holes in the walls that looked to lead underground.

"Shepard was attempting to prevent the possibility of injury due to the forces within the building, should it have collapsed completely. The chance of significant internal damage was far less simply rolling down the side of the hole, if... less dignified."

"I'll trade a little dignity for fewer broken bones," Liara said, dusting herself off. "What about the others? We're not being attacked by anything down here and I don't hear weapons fire."

Overhead Grunt's familiar voice bellowed.

"Shepard! In one piece?"

He tapped his omni-tool and opened his comm.

"We're fine, just some bruises and dirt. But from looking at these walls we're not going to be climbing back up. I've got tunnels down here. It looks like we're splitting up."

"Scans showed that the tunnels led to a central chamber underground. We'll meet you there!"

"Copy that," Shepard said, tabbing over to the squad channel. "Garrus, back up Grunt's team. We'll all meet in the middle. Until otherwise Garrus is in charge up there, got it people?"

A chorus of agreement answered him. Satisfied, he pulled the rifle from his back and activated it, the faint whir as it extended somewhat comforting in their present circumstances. Going into the tunnels with only a four-person team wasn't exactly what he had planned. He frowned and nodded toward the nearest opening.

"Okay, I'll take point. EDI, you're bringing up the rear. Try to keep us headed in the right direction as best you can. If we encounter resistance, watch your flanks and stay mobile. We don't know what the Reapers might have done to them, but the rachni on Noveria were dangerous enough."

The three nodded, drawing their own weapons. Both Liara and EDI carried submachine guns which would help provide a good volume of fire. Tali's usual shotgun would provide a heavy blow if a warrior got in close. The memory of the sharp talons on the tips of the rachni's tentacles made his entire body tense whenever he thought of the considerably lighter armor worn by his team. He could only hope that EDI's metallic skin was more durable than its appearance would suggest.

After the first few hundred yards the tunnel was almost pitch black, forcing them to activate various light sources before continuing forward. Once they moved deeper, it became apparent that the tunnels were interlaced with natural caverns, some filled with small pools of water and faintly glowing lichen. The patches of fungus were the first living things seen since setting foot on the planet, excepting the krogan and his team.

"Shepard, here," Liara said quietly, pointing her light at a slumped over form.

EDI crouched next to the motionless body. "Krogan, dead approximately one day. Suffering from numerous acid burns and puncture wounds."

"But his gear hasn't been destroyed like everything above. He must have run down here after he was wounded and his regeneration just wasn't enough," Tali noted sadly.

"Maybe it wasn't in vain, though..." he muttered, rolling the dead krogan aside to reveal the weapon that the warrior had collapsed on. "Knew I recognized that."

"What in the goddess' name is that?"

Shepard collapsed his rifle and stowed it once more, lifting the krogan's weapon and checking the fuel cells. A full canister. It made him wonder if the scout had intentionally brought the weapon with him in the hopes that someone would find it. Whether it was intention or circumstance, though, the Spectre wasn't going to complain.

"M-451. Mercenaries call it the 'Firestorm'."

"A flamethrower? Those have been illegal in Council space for centuries," the asari said. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the krogan have them."

"We should be glad they did. Something tells me we're going to need it."

As they moved deeper Shepard activated the flamethrower, the tiny ignition light wavering at the front of the gun. The tunnels continued to lead them deeper underground but revealed no new clues or even hostile rachni. After nearly ten minutes of walking he saw the first sign of something strange.

"Is that... webbing?" Tali asked hesitantly.

EDI reached out and touched one of the thick strands that blocked their way forward.

"Correct, though it is non-adhesive. It is likely used as a method of defining the borders of the rachni's nest and restricting traffic."

"Stand back," he said.

A brief caress of the weapon's trigger caused a three meter long gout of flame to shoot from its barrel, quickly engulfing the network of webbing. The substance caught easily and turned to mere ash in seconds. He stepped through the opening and scanned the area ahead. Seeing no movement he motioned the others forward. As the Spectre panned the light around the room, however, he did notice dozens of small pods.

"Eggs?" Liara suggested.

"They're definitely eggs... but look."

Shepard knelt on the stone and played the light across the nearest foot-high orb. It was sickly gray in color and under the damp looking outer shell tiny blue lines could be seen that trailed down into the ground the egg rested on. He shook his head sadly.

"The Reapers have grafted technology directly into the egg... possibly to control the offspring directly and avoid the failures of the scientists on Noveria," EDI concluded.

"It looks like it..."

He lifted his foot, causing Tali's head to whip around in his direction.

"Shepard, what are you-"

With a vicious kick he cracked the egg open. The outer shell burst more like a ripened fruit than anything and sticky fluid covered his boot. From within forms immediately began to writhe and seconds later half a dozen small, many-legged things burst from the goo. The first he simply stepped on, already seeing soulless blue glow of husk-like modifications grafted into the small things body. The others scattered, one headed Tali's direction.

"S-Spiders! Spiders spiders spiders!" the quarian yelped, actually turning her shotgun on the racing creature and obliterating it in a single blast.

The frightened quarian danced across the stone floor of the cave until her back was pressed against his. He could hear her heavy breathing, feel it even through the thick armor he wore. For their parts, EDI and Liara simply stared in bewilderment.

"You're... afraid of spiders?" he asked.

"I didn't even know what spiders were until I booked passage on a _human_ ship!" Tali growled angrily, but didn't move from her position.

For a second they weren't at war with an unbeatable enemy. Saren's voice didn't echo in his head and the headache didn't pound behind his eyelids. Shepard actually laughed.

"D-Don't laugh at me! They're small and... and they scuttle!"

"Oh Tali," Liara giggled, earning herself a sharp look from the silver eyed woman.

EDI cocked her head. "I do not understand the humor in Tali's repulsion to arachnids. Though, should we encounter larger rachni, such a reaction could be detrimental."

"The big ones don't bother me. Just the small ones, with their little feet... just scuttling... getting everywhere," the quarian said with a shiver.

Once his shoulders stopped shaking, Shepard turned and patted the engineer's arm reassuringly.

"I'll protect you from the evil spiders, Tali."

He could hear the smile in Tali's voice when she responded. A teasing note now that her nerves were under control and undertones of something more.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

To punctuate his statement the Spectre turned back toward the clutch of remaining eggs. In one smooth motion, he depressed the flamethrower's trigger and swept the resulting stream of fire across them all. There was a faint screeching sound and then simply silence. These were rachni the Reapers wouldn't be using against anyone.

"Come on. If we find more I'll torch them too."

* * *

><p>"That is not a spider. Its is just disgusting," Tali stated calmly.<p>

The quarian's shotgun barked once more and the wobbling creature in front of her collapsed lifelessly. To someone that had seen a rachni warrior before, it was identifiable as such, but only just. Its form was bloated with fleshy sacks and lined with cybernetic implants. Instead of two long tentacles, a pair of hard-hitting long range guns had been mounted directly into the rachni's body much like the Cannibals they had encountered previously.

Liara nodded. "I think anyone would agree. The rachni are different, as different from the rest of the Council races as the hanar are, but I can't help but feel some sympathy. To be twisted so horribly..."

The flamethrower finally sputtered out as he burned the last of the eggs in the large cavern and Shepard tossed the now useless weapon aside. He pulled the rifle from his back once more and looked at the dead abomination sadly.

"This is what the Reapers do. They corrupt and destroy... I'm starting to wonder if killing the queen back on Noveria wouldn't have been kinder after seeing what they've done to these things."

_Cruel the way only a machine can be._

The thought hit him like an icepick to the temple. Garrus' face warped in the same way, an unholy amalgam of flesh and steel. He gritted his teeth and shook his head fiercely, pushing the image down and trying to ignore the pain. He couldn't spend time thinking about what might happen, not while they were in the bowels of a rachni hive. Tali looked at him with concern evident in her stance.

"Shepard? Are you-"

Static burst over the comms and cut the quarian off.

"Shepard, do - copy?"

He tapped the side of his helmet. "I hear you, Garrus, but you're cutting in and out. Lots of static."

"Almost to - central nest. Lots of - and smaller rachni, few - husks."

"We're on our way. Meet us in the middle!"

The moved quickly now, keeping a careful eye on the tunnels as they passed; but the bulk of their opposition had already been eliminated. Multiple teams entering the network of tunnels at different points were likely taxing the hive's ability to defend itself. Ahead Shepard saw the first wholly artificial item since entering the tunnels: a massive door. Standing next to it were a pair of familiar forms.

"Garrus, Grunt. Where's the rest of the team?" he demanded.

"One level up, they've got a choke point to keep the damn things from coming in behind us," the turian responded immediately.

Grunt nodded his large head. "And the rest of Aralakh company is holding the tunnel just below us."

"Alright... Garrus, head back up and keep that tunnel secure. I'll take Grunt with me. Something tells me we found what we're looking for," the Spectre said, gesturing towards the door.

"On it, Boss. Good luck."

EDI and Tali were already hard at work on the door controls. Without needing to issue orders, Grunt took up a position opposite his own at the side of the door. The krogan still carried the same massive shotgun that he'd acquired for him when the tank-bred had been part of his crew. He looked between the four members of his team.

"You've all seen what the Reapers have done to the rachni. Whatever we find behind that door... we can't let it continue. That's our mission objective. Because if we don't stop this here then these monsters will be crawling across every world."

"Nothing will stop us, Battlemaster," Grunt assured him.

"We have accessed the door controls," EDI interrupted. "Odd. The primary locking mechanisms are located on this side of the door. Only minimal security firewalls are maintained to prevent entry from this side."

"Then let's end this. Hit it."

With an ominous thunk, the massive door dropped into the ground and they were immediately assaulted by a dozen husks. The gun in his hands beat out a staccato rhythm, followed by the heavier bass roar of Grunt's shotgun. Only a few of the shambling creatures survived the initial barrage and those were dispatched by Liara's biotics in short order.

The chamber within was enormous, the ceiling above extending into darkness in the dim illumination of the lichen that covered large portions of the walls. More of the Reaper's creations awaited them, a volley of fire from one of the altered rachni blasting chunks out of the wall over their heads. Shepard dropped to one knee and braced the machine gun against his shoulder before letting loose a long burst of fire. The bullets burst the fleshy sack that distorted the rachni's chest and dug into its body, the creature giving off a pained screech before collapsing.

"Watch for the small ones!" he barked.

Tali extended her hand and the bright light of her drone appeared a few feet away, instantly sending an arc of electricity through a dozen of the smaller workers.

"On it."

Precision fire from EDI certainly proved that her new platform was more than combat capable. Each burst from her submachine gun was carefully placed, taking out the nearest husks first before firing into the legs of more distant ones to slow their advance. Combined with Liara's powerful biotic fields, the husks never had a chance of closing the gap.

Grunt charged straight into another of the mutated rachni, knocking it upwards and unloading his shotgun into its underbelly. The creature practically disintegrated before their eyes and then the brief storm of violence was over. He had been expecting stronger resistance. The Spectre moved deeper into the cavern before he stopped abruptly.

_Sings-of-Endings._

The words were in his head. But it didn't have the nails on a chalkboard feeling that had accompanied the guttural urges that had driven him to throw Tali out of his quarters nor the booming command of the Reaper intelligence he'd encountered within the geth collective. No, it echoed through his head like a dozen voices sung in perfect harmony. Powerful, yet different. Shepard looked up, the gasps of his companions echoing his own surprise.

On Noveria he had seen the rachni queen in her confined cell, trapped behind smoky glass and pleading for not just her own life, but for the life of her species. Now he saw a rachni queen fully grown, though still confined. Her massive body was shackled to smooth gray machines but it didn't entirely hamper her majesty. The rachni's chitinous plates shimmered with blues and greens and an inner glow seemed to come from within her body. Eyes that glimmered with keen intelligence were fixated on him.

_Many white-hope songs we have sung in hope for your return._

Words in his mind once more, tinged with emotions far more layered than just what one would her in someone's voice when they spoke. Elation. Fear. Relief.

"You're speaking to me... directly? I can hear you in my head..." he asked hesitantly.

_We sing our songs without needing another to make our melodies heard. This is the way of a true queen. When you found us singing black songs of fear and isolation we were young. The gift of life has allowed us to grow. We sing to you now as Hope-Singer, the one to whom you gave the gift of freedom and life.  
><em>

He looked to his left and right, seeing an expression of amazement even on Grunt's face. The only exception was EDI. She looked between each of the squad in turn and back to the rachni that towered over head. Her voice was as calm as ever but with a clear note of concern.

"Shepard, is there a problem?"

Tali looked over at the synthetic, voice quietly awed. "Can't you hear her?"

_The metal worker has no song of her own, she cannot embrace our melody. We are sorry, Sings-of-Endings._

"I don't understand. What do you mean... Sings-of-Endings?"

The rachni's large head focused on him, eyes like sapphires the size of his fist seemed to stare into his soul.

_You are Sings-of-Endings. You are the one who ends all things._

* * *

><p><em>Okay, so I wasn't able to kick this out before I left since I wasn't sure if I was happy with it.<br>_

_My thanks to Myetel and her amazingly detailed story Spirit of Redemption from whom I am borrowing (with her permission) many bits of rachni history, physiology, psychology, and culture from. I had always intended for the rachni to become involved with Razor's Edge and had some ideas of my own only to find that she had done an amazing job of fleshing them out as a true sentient species. Check out her work at s/6735812/1/The_Spirit_of_Redemption  
><em>


	17. Chapter 16: The Fall

Chapter 16: The Fall

The song of the rachni queen echoed in his head as a strange medley of quixotic hope and somber resignation. There was no hesitation when she sang into their minds. Survivor. Saviour. Hero. Killer. Shepard had been called many things but this newest title would have seemed almost melodramatic if it didn't echo within the emptiness he felt inside with every day that passed.

Tali's response was far less understanding.

"What kind of name is that? Shepard saved you! The Council... Wrex, Ashley, they all thought you were a threat but he let you live."

He held up a hand to forestall the quarian's protest but the queen's voice sang in their minds once more.

_All things must end, Devotion-Singer. End brings about change._

"Is the giant bug going to give everyone a name?" Grunt asked.

Shepard could see the agitation in the krogan's frame. The queen's voice wasn't threatening but he still had ancient memories of his people fighting the rachni thanks to Okeer's tank imprints. Hundreds of years ago his people had descended into hives just like this one with weapons of mass destruction. To find himself standing before one now must have been quite the shock.

_We do not give names. Our people do not use the word-songs as yours do, we sing only of what we see within. You are Sings-Memories. Within you are the songs of your ancestors. They guide you just as our memory-songs guide us._

Static crackle interrupted the odd conversation. Garrus' voice came through, clearly breathing hard.

"Shepard... I don't know what you did but it pissed something off! We've got husks and rachni coming from everywhere. Laying down suppressive fire but they're just throwing themselves into it. I'm getting the suspicion that they've got more bodies than we've got bullets."

"Copy that, Garrus. We located the queen. Stand by... we'll have something soon."

"Understood. Don't take too long. Dying on some random planet to a bunch of bugs would be embarrassing."

He nodded and turned his attention back to the queen.

"I'm sure we could ask you a thousand questions, but we don't have time so I'm going to skip to the important ones. How did this happen? I freed you and you promised to disappear. To raise your 'children' in peace."

_Our promise was fulfilled. Once we escaped the frozen planet we returned to our home to rebuild... we taught our children of your kindness and our voices sang between the stars once more. But the dark-song destroyers came. They tried to sing the sour-yellow notes to twist our thoughts as they did to our mothers but we would not submit._

This time it was Liara's voice that interrupted. "You mean you were able to resist indoctrination?"

_Yes, Watchful-Singer. The memory song of our people taught us of their deception. We sang defiance... but they came with their machines and we could not stop them, they were too many. Our daughters were scattered and we sang them to sleep to hide from the dark-song destroyers._

Shepard stood, looking up at the queen for a long moment before he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He knew about the 'sour-yellow notes' all too well. A part of him was curious, in a twisted way, exactly what nightmares the Reapers would inflict upon a rachni. What did the queen's kind fear? What whispered urgings had turned their entire race against the galaxy centuries ago?

A startled sound from his companions and the sound of movement caused him to open his eyes. The rachni, bound as she was, still possessed some flexibility and her torso had lowered until her head was near his own. The part of his mind that still ran on instinct told him to run but it was an urge quickly pushed aside. When the queen's voice sang to him once more it was quieter and he realized that she spoke only to him.

_You hear the sour-yellow notes as well. We can sense them, they color your undersong, a discordant echo. You are strong, Sings-of-Endings. You do not submit but your songs are thick with yellows and grays._

His response was a strained whisper. "I'm still my own man."

_We know. Yours__ is a song we have heard before, but the notes have changed. You sing in reds and blacks to drown out the dark-song destroyers. Life cannot be sustained with only notes of fury and war. All colors must be sung or the melody will fail._

"I will... sing those notes because I have to," Shepard explained. "The Reapers... the 'dark-song destroyers' wage war on the entire galaxy. They want to use your children to destroy us. I can't let that happen."

The queen's song once more grew in volume to touch the minds of all those present.

_The children of this world have been taken from us before we __could__ sing to them. Like those on the frozen planet they are lost. The dark-song destroyers control them forever more. We know they must be destroyed._

"Our mission was to make sure the Reapers can never use the rachni against us, Battlemaster," Grunt said, eyeing the queen. "We should end this."

_Our fate is to be decided by you once again, Sings-of-Endings. If you would consign us to silence then we will accept that fate. But we can be freed of these shackles to sing freedom once more._

"She's right..." Tali trailed off for a second as she examined the nearby console. "If I deactivate this terminal it will disable the magnetic clamps. It looks like... Keelah, they're imbedded in her legs. The pain must be terrible."

_Pain-songs do not affect us the same way as they do your kind, Devotion-Singer_, the queen said. _But we will be slower for a time until our wounds heal._

"If they capture you again this would all have been for nothing," Shepard said.

_We know. Our hope-songs were to be freed from our captivity no matter what form salvation took. As we said, all things must end. But not all endings are to be feared. It is your choice, Sings-of-Endings. Once we sent word that we would support you when the time came to face the dark-song destroyers... this is a promise we will keep, no matter your choice._

He looked up in confusion, seeing similar reactions from the others. EDI had apparently accepted that this strange conversation wasn't something she was likely to be able to process and had instead moved to guard the doorway. From Grunt's expression he still thought that they should simply detonate the largest explosive available and destroy the entire hive, but Liara looked more thoughtful. Tali was unreadable behind her mask save for the tension he could see in her frame.

Tali stepped away from the console and addressed the queen.

"What do you mean?"

_When the dark-song destroyers came for us we sent our daughters to sleep on a dozen worlds. We sang to them of the destroyers, of Sings-of-Endings, of songs of white-hope and red-vengeance. Workers hibernate and ships wait in cold darkness. Many will likely be found by agents of the dark-song destroyers. But our kind has survived the destruction of songs for many cycles._

"I still don't understand," the Spectre said. "If they're hibernating how can they help us?"

Bright blue eyes turned to him again.

_If you free us from this place we will sing to the stars once more and our daughters will awaken. Workers will sing building-songs and eggs will be laid. We will hide no longer in the cold places in between._

"You're using your daughters to buy your freedom," Grunt said, giving a small laugh. "Cunning."

_No, we offer a choice. If we are free of this place to sing once __more__,__our children, our people, will sing the songs of war for Sings-of-Endings. But there is another path._

"And that path..."

_If you consign our songs to silence in this place __instead__,__ then we cannot awaken our children to fight for you. But we can offer songs of long promised vengeance. Our daughters were sung to sleep with memories of the dark-song destroyers. They will sleep for thousands of years__.__ Time__ enough for the destroyers to disappear into the void beyond once more. When they awake they will know a singular purpose. They will sing retribution-songs. They will find the Citadel. They will build and they will swarm. And when the dark-song destroyers return once more it will be to find that it is our numbers that darken the skies of every world._

"By the goddess, Shepard," Liara gasped. "She's... she's willing to-"

"To shape her children into biological weapons with her final orders. Turn them into a sword of vengeance to strike at the Reapers even after we're gone," he finished.

"Would that even work?" Tali asked.

"The lessons of the tank taught me that the rachni never forget. That every queen remembers the lives of their mothers," Grunt said. "They would remember everything about the Reapers."

The asari shook her head in amazement.

"And have thousands of years to advance their technology, breed, colonize... the only space faring species left in the galaxy once the Reapers go back to dark space. All it takes is one single queen surviving. Sovereign said that they returned every fifty thousand years to 'harvest' organic life when we reached the peak of our advancement. It must mean that if we advanced further we'd be too much of a threat. But what would the rachni become in all that time?"

_We cannot see future-songs, only prepare for them as best we know. Our children sleep with dream-songs of war. This is our last promise if we must go into the silence: the children of the Singing planet will send the dark-song destroyers into the silence as well._

The harmony of the queen's song in their mind had become iron hard in the final notes, no hint of doubt. She believed with every fiber of her being that this would come to pass. Shepard couldn't really argue the point and some part of him relished the thought of the Reaper's surprise if they returned in the next cycle only to find an endless swarm of rachni waiting to finally repay in kind what the Reapers had sown for countless millennia.

"That's assuming that we're going to fail, though," Tali objected, turning to him and taking a step forward. "We're fighting them. We have the Crucible, the fleets... we have a plan to retake Rannoch. We can beat them!"

His mind immediately began to weigh the variables. Encounters with the Reapers, colonies lost. Terra Nova had gone silent only a few days before. Bitter words rolled across his tongue before he could stop them.

"We have plans for a device that we can't even identify beyond the fact that the prothean's thought it would work and a galaxy that's only as united as its own self-interests allow. Before we can even build the Crucible we need somewhere safe enough to actually construct it. Every battle we fight with the Reapers is a delaying action. An attempt to buy time. We haven't won a single engagement since the war began."

The quarian stopped in her tracks. "You... you don't think we can win."

It was a statement rather than a question. The sound of betrayal and hurt in Tali's voice made him wince but finally he nodded and gave a sigh before forcing himself to meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry. I tried, Tali... god how I tried... but you haven't seen the reports. The ships gone in an instant, colonies wiped out in a matter of hours."

Her voice was barely a whisper now. "We believed in you."

"A battlemaster doesn't surrender!" Grunt objected. The krogan looked more confused than anything.

"No, he doesn't. And I haven't stopped fighting yet. But... I've come up with plans, listened to Hackett and Victus try to find any advantage. The best I can do is make the Reapers pay for the galaxy in blood, maybe more than they ever have before. But I can't promise you victory. Not this time."

_All things must end. But now you must make haste, Sings-of-Endings. Our lost children gather._

Garrus' voice came over the comm again to punctuate the queen's statement.

"On our way to you, Shepard! Damn rachni just came out of everywhere! And I thought there were a lot before... we're falling back!"

In the distance he could hear weapons fire echoing the tunnels. He did his best to ignore Tali's wide eyed gaze and not think about the tears that the visor likely hid. Twice now he had betrayed her trust by trying to protect her. He'd been a fool to think that he could somehow shield her from all of this. Instead he addressed the queen.

"Either way I'm not going to leave my people to be killed by your children. There must be another way out of here. Do you know it?"

_There are passageways to lead to the surface close to your ships. The way is complicated and winding. We can grant knowledge of the pathway but it will require our song to touch the mind directly. Do you wish this?_

"Wait... not my mind," he stated quickly. "I don't think it's... a good idea for you to do that with me. The others. Give them the map."

_Devotion-Singer. Sings-Memories. Watchful-Singer. Sing songs of calm and acceptance. We give you a gift-song if you would accept it._

Slowly each one nodded. Shepard watched them stiffen and Liara's eyes immediately flashed black, endlessly deep pools that he had witnessed only a few times before. As quickly as it came, though, it was over. The three staggered when whatever link was broken and Liara's eyes returned to normal.

"Amazing... it's as if I had spent years traveling every tunnel. Learned every turn," Liara muttered.

_It is not a song we sing easily or without risk as your minds are very different from those of our children. The memory will fade in time._

"Do you have it?" he asked the other two.

Grunt and Tali both nodded.

"I can see tunnels in my head," the krogan said. "Miles of them."

"Good. Take up defensive positions. As soon as Garrus and the rest of the krogans make it to our position we're moving out."

To his surprise Tali approached, grabbing his arm before he could move away. Her fingers gripped him like a vice and bright eyes flashed behind the armored slits of her visor.

"When did you stop believing?"

He swallowed. "I don't know."

"Then why?" the young engineer asked. "We've done so much. You stopped Sovereign. The Collectors... you've done the impossible more than once."

Shepard reached up and lightly touched the side of her mask.

"Maybe that's the problem. I've done the impossible so many times... I died once already and it didn't end. I just came back and kept doing it. Kept collecting scars. I've only got so much fire left and everyone wants me to save them. Eventually they're going to figure out that I can't always do the impossible."

"But you can't give up," she pleaded. "Think about what we've done. Even if you don't believe in yourself anymore... we do. Don't you understand? We still believe in you. The Alliance, the galaxy... they believe in Commander Shepard. The man that can do the impossible. We need you. I... I need you."

There was no way to feel hot or cold through the suit, just the pressure as Tali leaned against his hand. He smiled even though neither of them could see the expression. The warmth in her words giving him a brief respite from the pain and discordant hum in the back of his mind. It was enough to make him think for a foolish moment that maybe her presence could be enough to help him keep control. But he knew the dangers of that path. Sooner or later he would slip.

All he'd heard for months were the whispers in his dreams and memories of long dead protheans. Two years ago he would have told them all that any fight could be won. Somewhere along the way he had lost that, let the darkness get a foothold in his soul. Her words might not be able to stop what he already felt desperately clawing at the back of his mind. But it gave him enough strength to do more than just accept the inevitable. The will to give just a little more. In the days to come, he hoped Tali would forgive him.

"I left you behind because I wanted to keep you safe, Tali. Far away from the hell that was coming as if you could somehow escape it. But I never stopped thinking of you. Remember that."

Tali cocked her head as he pulled away and turned to the queen.

"Where do you have to be to awaken your daughters? In space?"

_No. Once we are free of these shackles we need only a brief time to regain our strength. The restraints fill us with chemicals to mute our song, __to__ prevent us from calling for aid. Every song of our daughters is bound to our own. There is no distance that can stand between it. Only the cruel devices of the dark-song destroyers._

"Then we're moving out. Tali, release the shackles."

The quarian immediately perked up as she realized what he intended to do. He could hear a smile in her voice.

"Yes, Captain."

Within seconds she was already working at the console. The queen inclined her head in his direction and awaited her freedom. From across the room he could hear louder echoes of gunfire before Garrus sprinted into the room with the rest of the team at his heels. All of them look harried and Legion even had greenish ichor coating most of its armored form.

"Boss, they're coming fast and... Spirits!"

The turian skidded to halt just in time for Tali to complete the final overrides. With a loud sound of screeching metal the shackles popped open and fell away. The queen gave a triumphant roar and reared back, knocking the offending pieces of machinery away before settling back down. Now unbound she stood to her full height. Her body was nearly the length of one of the Normandy's shuttles and covered in shimmering chitin.

Just as Tali had said, he noticed there were large puncture wounds in the queen's legs that slowly leaked fluid. The flow stopped even as he watched, though, and an unnerved Garrus gripped his rifle tightly.

_Be at peace, Sings-Loyalty. We stand with Sings-of-Endings against the dark-song destroyers and now we are free. Soon we will call to our daughters to join your cause and together we will sing songs of retribution against our enemy._

"I... uh... what the hell, Shepard?"

"She gives people names. Or... 'hears their song' and calls them by that. I don't know and we don't have time to find out," he replied. "You get to be 'Sings-Loyalty' apparently. She calls herself 'Hope-Singer'. So... Sings-Loyalty, meet Hope-Singer. Hope-Singer, Sings-Loyalty."

Garrus shrugged. "Alright. By now you'd think I'd have learned not to ask. Not sure my father would agree with the loyalty title, though. After all I'm a very bad turian."

_Loyalty transcends the creations of your societies and structures. Your song is bright and strong, Sings-Loyalty, the song of a great brood warrior._

"Thanks..." the turian said, looking up quizzically. "I think. But unless you can stop the rachni the Reapers have already modified we're about to have company."

_We are sorry, but we cannot. We can sense their approach._

Shepard looked back at the entrance. The large metal doors that they'd entered were meant to keep the queen in, not a horde of rampaging rachni out.

"Then we can't stay here. They'll come from every direction. Garrus, grab Tali and Liara, then split into two teams. The queen gave them a... mental map of the tunnels. You take Tali, half the team, and make for the surface. Liara can go with the other half and take a different route."

"What about you?" the turian asked.

"Grunt has the map too. He and I will cover the queen while whatever drugs flush out of her system and then take a third path. Your job is to get everyone out," Shepard ordered, approaching the others and pointing at James. "Vega! Trade me weapons."

The large marine slapped a fresh thermal clip into the gun and tossed it to him, catching the M-76 in return. Vega gave his commanding officer a cocky salute.

"Think you can handle that kind of firepower, loco?"

"I was handling this kind of firepower while you were still in basic," he replied. "Until we get out of here, Vega, I want you to stick to Liara like glue. That clear, soldier?"

This time the salute was far more crisp. "Yes, sir."

"Still not sure about this plan, Boss," Garrus said at his side. "The queen doesn't look like she's going to be moving fast yet and there are a lot of bad guys crawling around in here."

"Hence splitting up. They'll have to divide their forces to pursue, making them easier to handle. Just worry about getting them out, Garrus. Everything else will sort itself out."

"Let me guess, I'm supposed to stick to another woman like glue?"

Shepard clapped a hand on the turian's armored shoulder.

"Who else would I trust to get it done? You'll take care of her. Now get moving. As soon as you're topside radio for an extraction."

"Glad to hear you sounding a little more like your old self, Shepard," Garrus said, pausing for a moment before moving away. "See you on the other side."

"You too."

The two teams quickly organized themselves, checking weapons and ammo. Grunt stood nearby connecting the tank on another flamethrower that one of his soldiers had apparently retrieved. Across the room he saw Tali turn towards him but he shook his head to stop her. Instead he turned off his external pick ups and activated his private comms.

"It's not up for discussion."

The sharp reply followed before he'd even finished the sentence.

"What kind of plan is this?"

"One that will work."

Tali sighed. "Some of us should stay behind. You and Grunt-"

"Are carrying as much firepower as three of you combined. The queen needs time. We're going to give it to her. The rest of you have to follow that map the queen put in your head."

"You'd better be right behind us."

"A rachni hive isn't where I'd want to put down roots," Shepard replied.

"Better not be. Too many spiders."

Placated, the quarian finally terminated the link, her final words affectionate. Javik had taken command of the other squad and soon they were both on their way, heading into the labyrinth of tunnels with the queen's mental map to guide them. Just in time from the sound of things. He could hear the sound of claws skittering on stone growing closer. Grunt stepped up next to him and grinned ferally.

"Battlemaster."

"Grunt."

"Never thought I'd be defending a rachni queen. Okeer would probably pop a vein."

The Spectre couldn't help but laugh. "Probably so. Hope-Singer, how are you doing?"

_Our blood stirs and the poisons of the dark-song destroyers weaken but we still cannot reach our children. The lost ones come, Sings-of-Endings. Their songs are a single note. Twisted black songs of hate._

A living wave suddenly poured through the metal doors. Some of the converted rachni bore the grafted weapons that the Reapers were using to turn them into living weapons platforms but others were simply implanted warriors. Their carapaces marred by cybernetic lines and deformed, but still possessing the deadly claws he remembered. The Spectre thumbed the fire selector on the machine gun.

"Let'em have it!"

The weapon came to life in his hands. He heard the whine as its mechanisms sped up and a staccato burst of fire turned into a steady roar. Grunt's flamethrower engulfed the first surge that got past the withering hail of fire from his weapon, the creatures sizzling and screeching as they died.

A volley of fire blasted over his head and Shepard wrestled the Typhoon to drag the stream of fire across one of the armed rachni. In a flash the creature's armored shell burst and it was reduced to a steaming puddle. Another corrupted warrior surged forward beneath a gout of flame, only to be knocked back as Grunt swung the weapon into the rachni's carapace and knocked it back. A short burst of fire overtook it for its trouble a second later. For each one that fell, another seemed to appear to take its place and for a moment he feared they'd be quickly overwhelmed.

Finally reaching its capacity the Typhoon ejected its red-hot sink. Shepard dropped the weapon and drew both the pistol and submachine gun from his back. Quick bursts drove away the smaller of the rachni while the pistol's heavy bite made short work of even the cybernetically enhanced rachni shells. One of the last warriors lunged for him just as his pistol clicked empty and he was forced to drop both of his weapons to catch the creature's clawed tentacles before they could rip into him.

He yelled out and kicked, knocking the creature away. Before the Spectre could go for another weapon the upper half of the warrior's body simply disappeared and the thing slumped to the ground dead. To his right Grunt simply grinned and worked the action on his heavy shotgun.

"One down... a million to go."

"That was just the first push," Shepard warned.

"Then let them come!"

The corrupted rachni didn't disappoint. They came like the tide, a push of bodies and claws that simply crashed against the cliff that was a Spectre and the perfect krogan. A tableau of ruined bodies were spread from the entrance to just in front of the pair. Shepard gave the trigger of his weapon a long pull and neatly bisected one of the remaining warriors before letting the weapon spin down and eject its spent heatsink. When he reached to his belt he found his hand grasping at an empty pouch, finally reaching farther back until he found a single thermal clip. Last one.

"Hope-Singer?"

_We sing! It is difficult but we can hear our daughters__'__dream-songs... we must wake them so that they can hear our song! Reaching them is difficult. The dark-song destroyers' poisons still cloud our link to our children!_

"How long do you need?"

_Your times are strange to us... fractions of a rotation of this world. Longer than the time it would take a warrior to traverse the space between tunnels and surface._

That could mean minutes at best. Minutes. Minutes were hours if the sensors of his armor were anything to go by. Thermal sensors screamed with warnings and he could feel vibrations underfoot. The rachni were no longer content to come at them like waves. This time it would be an endless flood.

"Garrus, status?"

"Almost out, Boss. Splitting up definitely thinned their numbers. It looks like they're just running on instinct, going for the closest thing," the turian replied. "What about you?"

"The queen is still trying to contact her children."

"Still? Where the hell are you?"

"Same chamber."

Garrus' voice growled over the comm. "Dammit, Shepard. You should be moving already. Motion sensors are off the charts!"

"Just get everyone topside!" he barked then looked to Grunt. "Ammo?"

"One canister of fuel left. Few clips for the shotgun. Enough."

"Grunt... the queen needs time. Time we don't have. The only way she's going to get away is if we give it to her."

Oddly enough the krogan smiled.

"The Collectors are dead. That makes us the two most dangerous things in the galaxy. We should teach them that."

Shepard reached out and clasped wrists with the massive krogan warrior, much as he had with Wrex on another dry, barren world that their kind called home. His decision there had given hope to a species that had long since lost it even if at great cost. The Spectre could only hope that his actions on this world would do the same.

"Can you move?" he asked the queen.

_Yes. We can climb. The crevices of this place run deep in the planet's crust. If we focus our songs then our lost children will not be able to hear our song to find us. You would have us hide and wait, regain our strength to sing to __our__ children?_

"That's the idea. Grunt, do you still have the map in your mind?"

The krogan frowned. "Why would I flee now?"

"Because it will split their forces just like it did before. If my armor's sensors are any indication they're all around us already. You'll just have to cut a path through" he explained quickly. "Make for the surface, Grunt. And give them a hell of a fight every step of the way."

"And you?"

Using one hand he released the seals on his helmet and pulled it off, tossing the heavy piece of armor aside. He gave the krogan warrior a wild eyed smile.

"The queen goes... I make sure nothing follows until she's so far down they'll never find her."

Grunt met his eyes and nodded, there was no argument there. Just an acknowledgement. Respect. In years Grunt had been the youngest member of his crew. The queen's name for him had been dead on, though. He had the memories of centuries of war in his blood.

"Fight well, Battlemaster."

"Fight well, Grunt."

Heavy boot steps rang throughout the cavern and then disappeared into one of the tunnels. A heartbeat later a bone shaking roar echoed throughout the network of tunnels as Grunt issued his challenge. It was a challenge he was sure many of the rachni wouldn't be able to ignore. Behind him Shepard heard the queen's bulk shift.

_You have made your choice, then, Sings-of-Endings?_

"Every step I've taken since Eden Prime has left me with fewer choices," he said idly, slapping fresh thermal magazines into his pistol and submachine gun.

_We can still hear your song. It is still your own_.

"For now. But I've already seen what happens if I let it continue. You've heard those notes, Hope-Singer. They've been getting louder and I'm finally able to hear them for what they are... but I can't tune them out even knowing them for what they are. It's time to make a choice before I'm left with none."

The queen shifted to ease her head down next to his.

_You would leave your little-queen alone?_

"Little queen?"

_Devotion-Singer. Her song sings harmony with your own. Bright white against deep red, her melody calls to you as her most favored brood-warrior._

His expression became a sad smile.

"She'll never be alone... the Normandy is her home. Garrus. Kasumi. Joker. They'll take care of her. I've lost a lot in my life but at least I can say I gained a family. Odd as it is."

A high pitched screech filtered into the cavern from one of the tunnels. Grunt's flamethrower was hard at work from the sound of it. From tunnels all around him he could hear the scratch of clawed feet growing louder and the vibration beneath his feet became a steady hum. He looked over at the massive rachni queen.

"Time for you to go. Sing to your daughters when you regain your strength. Find Garrus and Tali, and the Normandy. Give them the strength they need to see this through."

Glowing blue eyes met his own.

_All things must end, but not all endings are for all time. We will go into the depths and gather our strength. Sing defiance. Sing strength._

With that cryptic song in his mind the queen moved her considerable bulk to the edge of the massive crevice that made up the rear of the chamber that had been used as her prison cell. She had surprising grace and speed with her many legs, lifting herself over the edge before she slipped downwards. Shepard took a few steps closer and looked down. Already Hope-Singer had scaled a dozen yards. A few dozen more and she'd be lost in the darkness.

Finally the songs of the rachni queen faded from his mind and he was left alone. Already he could feel the headache building behind his eyes once more, but this time it didn't bother him. It was a pain that he knew. One that couldn't hold him back any longer. Still he couldn't help but start when a silky turian voice spoke behind him.

_Shepard..._

He spun and raised his gun but found no one there.

"No. No more games!" Shepard snapped at the air through gritted teeth. "No more dreams, no more songs, no more whispers!"

Mocking laughter rang in his ears.

_You have fought too hard to die in this place. Submit to the inevitable and you can live. Take the place that should have been mine. Serve the Reapers and maybe you'll find a way to save your precious collection of misfits._

"Save them for what? So that they can become indoctrinated monsters like you?"

_You claim to love them, but you condemn them all to die fighting a war that can't be won._

"No, a war you didn't believe could be won. And every night in my dreams you've been trying to convince me of the same thing."

_I merely showed you what you already knew._

His omni-tool beeped repeatedly. Motion sensors turned his local map into a sea of contacts. Shepard lifted the heavy machinegun a final time, settling the weapon against his hip and disabling the safety. Clicks and screeches began to echo from every tunnel.

"You showed me what they knew. We're not playing by the Reaper's rules anymore. No surprise attack on the Citadel. No galaxy to be picked apart piecemeal. Instead they've got a united galaxy to face. Asari. Turians. Krogan. Soon the rachni will come."

The voice changed, less Saren's mocking rasp now and more of a resonating bass. It was an odd contrast to the petulant denial that followed.

_**They will fall without you!**_

"They won't. That was always Saren's mistake... he thought he was better than everyone else. That he had to save everyone from themselves," Shepard replied to the voice. "But I didn't recruit a team of followers and sycophants. They know what needs to be done."

Pain stabbed through his head, almost causing him to double over but he stood firm.

_**Die here and we will find another. Live and you will serve us... it is inevitable.**_

"Then you try and find another. I'll be laughing from the other side when Garrus puts a bullet in whatever poor bastard you choose."

The voice in his head was almost a snarl now, bestial and full of rage.

_**So be it!**_

Much to his surprise the pain abated. He was all too aware of the sweat rolling down his face. Maybe it was some odd sense of mercy on the part of the Reapers but he doubted it. Whatever power they'd tried to exert over him had failed. He was no longer worth their time. Another failed tool to be discarded like Saren or the Collectors. At least he could take satisfaction in the fact that he hadn't given them what they wanted. When push came to shove he'd meet his end free.

Shepard shook his head to clear his vision and saw the first dark form of a rachni warrior appear from a side tunnel. He drew his pistol with his off hand and fired off a single shot that caught the beast between it's many eyes. It collapsed without a sound. The vanguard of their advance. Holstering the pistol, his comm crackled to life a final time.

"Spirits, where the hell are you, Shepard?" Garrus asked.

"Have you extracted?"

"Shuttles are here! You didn't answer my question! Rachni are burrowing out of the damn ground up here. We're not going to be able to stay here long!"

Automatic weapons fire carried over their channel as well as cursing and the occasional krogan roar. He sighed and tapped his omni-tool to make sure he was locked into Garrus' private channel. He kept his voice level when he replied. A simple statement of the facts.

"Garrus, I'm not going to make it to the extraction point. It's time for you to get out of here."

The response was immediate.

"Fuck that! I'm not leaving without you, Boss!"

"You're the boss now. I'm giving you one last order. Get everyone off this planet and show the Reapers that _nothing_ is going to stop us. That their cycle ends with _this_ generation."

"We can hold out, you just need to move! We can get the shuttles to do flyovers..."

"No flyovers. No rescue missions. I'm still underground, Garrus. Buying the queen time to get away so she can wake up her daughters. You'll have your army."

The turian sounded bewildered as he spoke, clearly trying to make sense of what he was hearing and failing.

"Why? Why the hell do you have to do this?"

He laughed bitterly. "I had to make a choice, Garrus. I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend to you the last few months. It took me this long to figure things out."

"I don't understand," Garrus growled over the comm, his voice filled with confusion.

"Feels like a lifetime ago that we sat in the cargo bay and you told me that Saren and I weren't similar. You were right. I'm not going to go down the same path as Saren. He didn't know when he was lost or couldn't admit it if he did, and he turned into something he hated. But if I don't make the right decision now... I will too. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

There was a pause. Around him he could feel the pressure of countless bodies as the rachni closed in. Garrus' voice was a strained rasp when he finally responded.

"Dammit, Shepard... why didn't you say something. Tell someone... tell me..."

"You know me. Stubborn to the end, making varren look reasonable and krogans look like kindly social workers," he replied wryly.

The turian's laugh was weak. "You did out stubborn Wrex a few times."

Another loud screech. Like a hunting call.

"They're coming and I'm out of time... get back to the Normandy and do what needs to be done."

"Spirits take you, Shepard... this wasn't how it was supposed to go," his friend replied, voice choked. "We were supposed to see this thing through to the end. Shepard and Vakarian."

His own reply nearly caught in his throat, but despite it he smiled.

"I know. At least I can say that I've known what it was like to have a brother. That's more than I could ever have hoped for. Good luck, old friend."

He cut the line, trusting Garrus to follow his final orders and letting his finger come to rest on the trigger of his weapon. The first wave of rachni were pouring from every available opening, some evening burrowing from the surrounding stone. A thousand claws and pincers. But despite it all he felt a sense of relief for the first time in months when he squeezed the trigger.

The weapon roared to life in his hands.

* * *

><p>"Good luck, old friend."<p>

Garrus slammed a fist against the shuttle's bulkhead and gave a low, mournful sound that was lost in the din of combat. Mounted guns on the side of the shuttles beat out a steady rhythm that drove back the swarming rachni when they emerged, but each time the rachni surged again within minutes.

Thoughts ripped through his head like rabid varren. His instincts told him to jump out of the shuttle go after Shepard despite the man's orders. Damn the consequences. Brother, Shepard had called him. What kind of man leaves his brother behind? But ironically it was memories of time spent with Shepard that stopped him.

"_Why? Spirits! He was mine, Shepard!"_

_The Spectre crossed his arms over his chest and merely leaned against the Mako while Garrus ranted. For the entire shuttle ride back to the Normandy from the Fedele he had quietly seethed only to finally snap when they set foot on the deck._

"_Two months of fighting together! Covering each others backs! And then when I ask you to help me stop Saelon once and for all..."_

_Garrus growled and knocked a toolbox from where it rested on the Mako's bumper._

"_You done?" Shepard asked._

_He could only gape at the human's audacity and even felt his fingers curling reflexively. Anyone else would likely have taken a step back from such an obviously angry turian. Fingers that ended in talons tended to make most people nervous._

"_Done?" he repeated lamely._

"_Yea, done. I can let you keep ranting for a little while if it gets it out of your system."_

"_Get it out of my __system__?" the turian snarled and took step closer. "Saleon got away from me once. And since then he's been... butchering people from the inside out!"_

_Now the human reacted, even if it was without haste, by pushing himself off of the tank and squaring his shoulders. There was no relaxation in his posture or gaze now, meeting Garrus' eyes with his chin up and without flinching. _

"_You're right, he did. So why are you so pissed at me? He's dead now, isn't he?"_

"_Of course he's dead, you splattered his brains all over that spirits-be-damned lab of his. You ordered me not to shoot him!"_

"_I did. And you followed my orders despite your personal feelings. Which was a good thing."_

"_And then you shot him yourself!"_

"_Also true."_

_With a bestial snarl he directed his attentions to the Mako, raking his talons across the fresh paint and leaving two long scratches. Once he got control of himself he looked back at the infuriating human he'd started calling his friend._

"_Why, dammit? Why?"_

_Shepard cocked a brow. "I could ask you the same thing. Why did you want to shoot him?"_

"_Because he was a twisted son of a bitch. Because he's spent years lying and cheating his way out of justice, playing the system."_

"_But he's dead now. He won't hurt anyone ever again. Why does it matter who shot him?"_

_The turian jabbed a taloned finger at Shepard. "He was my __target! My__ responsibility! I let him escape last time and then... you saw the inside of that place. It was..."_

"_Horrific?" the Spectre supplied._

"_As good a word as any."_

"_I still haven't heard why justice wasn't served by the fact that I was the one that pulled the trigger."_

"_Because it was my fault!" Garrus roared._

_There was the barest quirk of Shepard's lips at the latest outburst. He had learned in his years at C-Sec that humans had maddeningly expressive faces, the smallest shifts and movements often betraying their inner thoughts. Even though they were alien he had always found them easier to read than his own people. His new commanding officer had been an exception in most occasions but this small tick told him that he'd finally stumbled into whatever verbal trap the man had laid._

"_Your fault, __hmm__? Sounds like guilt to me, Garrus."_

_He sighed and ran his talons across his fringe. "Why does it matter?"_

_Shepard's posture relaxed once more and he resumed his casual lean against the Mako._

"_It matters because you were talking about justice and looking for revenge. You wanted to absolve yourself of the guilt you felt for letting him escape."_

"_What if I did?" he shot back, but could already feel his anger deflating._

"_Then you should have at least been honest with yourself. I shot him because your reasoning was right, but your motivation wasn't," Shepard said quietly. "I made the decision out of necessity."_

"_Maybe you're right. It doesn't exactly make me feel better, Shepard," he admittedly grudgingly._

"_Neither would have shooting Saleon. Because once you start killing because it makes you feel __better…that's__ when you've become the thing you were supposed to be hunting."_

_This time it was Garrus that crossed his arms over his chest, examining the human across from him carefully._

"_What you're saying is that making the hard choice shouldn't be a matter of what you want..."_

"_It should be a matter of what needs to be done. One day it'll be you having to make the calls, Garrus. When it comes down to the line you might have to choose between what you want and what you know is the right choice."_

_The last of his anger faded and he felt his mandibles curve slightly in a smirk._

"_Okay, Shepard. But I think you're overestimating my chances at ever becoming the one in charge. I've never been big on leadership. Might have something to do with always arguing with it."_

_The human laughed._

His voice almost cracked when he barked out orders at their pilot.

"Cortez, we're leaving."

"Sir?" the man said in surprise, looking over his shoulder at Garrus.

"You heard me. Radio the other shuttles and get us back to the Normandy."

"What in the name of the ancestors are you doing, Garrus?" Tali demanded, practically leaping from her seat to confront him. "Shepard and Grunt haven't made it to the surface yet!"

A sudden roar from the krogan caught his attention long enough to drag it away from the incensed quarian. To his astonishment, a massive figure appeared from one of the tunnels, dragging itself to its feet. Grunt. The krogan was covered from head to toe in gore and stumbled as he walked, but he was alive. His momentary elation only made the immediate realization after all the more painful. Shepard had sent Grunt out because he knew that the krogan had a chance to make it when he didn't. Krogan warriors were already dragging Grunt into the shuttle.

"Grunt made it!" the quarian cried. "Shepard can't be far behind!"

Garrus winced and yelled towards the cockpit once more. "Shut the doors and get us airborne, Cortez!"

A fresh wave of rachni followed after Grunt. More of these were the deadly variety already upgraded by the Reapers and he could already hear the sound of explosions against the shuttle's hull. Cortez looked back at him again, clearly torn.

"Sir, the Commander-"

"Shepard isn't coming!" the turian snarled. "We won't be leaving either if they hit our engines! I gave you an order, Cortez, now follow it!"

"Yes, sir."

Tali looked between pilot and sniper frantically.

"You can't leave him behind!"

"He ordered me to!"

"I don't care what he ordered you to do, you turian _bosh'tet_!" Tali yelled and lunged for the shuttle door.

He caught her easily with an arm around her waist, bodily dragging her back. A knee caught him in the stomach hard enough to knock some of the wind out of him, but Tali's Pilgrimage training wasn't nearly a match for his years of hand-to-hand combat training. Garrus looked to Kasumi with desperate eyes. All he could do was hope that she would trust him.

"Keep her in her seat!"

"What the hell is going on, Garrus?" Kasumi hissed.

The thief wrapped her arms around Tali as the quarian tried to make another grab for the door while the shuttle's engines roared to life. Within moments the ship pulled away from the planet below as the swarm of corrupted rachni grew. Tali cried out in denial, her voice becoming a choked repetition of 'why, why' before she finally ceased her struggles. Kasumi looked at him again, eyes repeated the question she had just asked.

His response came out as little more than a whisper in the sudden silence.

"I had to make the right decision... instead of the one I wanted."

* * *

><p>Acid splashed against the Typhoon's armored shield, a few droplets splattering against his face. The liquid made him hiss in pain as it burned, but he ignored it, pouring more fire into the nearest drone. Warning tones bleated from the heavy weapon as the constant fire and damage from the rachni acid taxed it beyond its limit. It ejected a spent heatsink one last time and then gave a high-pitched whine as its internal mechanisms seized.<p>

Shepard cursed and swung the gun wide, slamming it into a charging warrior hard enough that he could hear its chitinous shell crack. He hurled the now useless weapon at another rachni and drew his submachine gun. A pair of controlled bursts put down the other two warriors that were closing to tear into him with their vicious claws.

He heard the brief hum just in time to turn aside, but not quickly enough to escape the blast. One of the fully mutated warriors caught him with a single shot from the bizarre cannons grafted to its upper body. There was a crack as his kinetic barriers gave way and he was sent flying backwards by the force of the blast, tumbling a few meters before he stopped himself. When the Spectre stood he could feel his right foot scrape against the edge of the crevice. Nowhere else to retreat to.

The rachni paused for a moment, circling. Without a queen to guide them their intelligence might have been animalistic at best, but they understood the position he was in just like any predator. A few of the closest warriors reared and screeched at him. From the rear he could see others positioning themselves and lowering their grafted weapons. Thin red targeting lasers were visible in the clouds of dust that had risen in the battle. But they didn't charge yet.

"Come on then," the Spectre growled, shoving himself to his feet and wiping blood away from his newly split lip.

Each rachni suddenly stopped moving completely, the teeming mass becoming statues in an instant. The cybernetics that twisted their bodies flared brighter for a moment and he could feel a sudden weight on his mind.

**_Submit. You have seen what is to come. Serve and embrace your salvation._**

The deep bass voice in his thoughts once more. One more desperate attempt to draw him in, but Shepard merely shook his head. His hands dropped to his belt, fingers quickly finding what he was looking for. One small, round charge in each hand, activated when he pressed the trigger with his thumb. Each explosive began to beep and in the sudden lull in the fighting half a dozen more beeps echoed throughout the cavern as if answering his call.

**_Your sacrifice means nothing!_**

"Maybe not to you. But I'm finished listening to whispers."

**_You will serve. The cycle cannot be broken._**

"Watch me."

Shepard's mouth curled into a feral grin and he stabbed his thumbs down on the two explosives a second time. The beeping reached a blistering crescendo and he hurled each device at the front ranks of the rachni swarm. He had long enough to hear the deafening howl of anger in his mind before all sound was washed away in the explosion.

Fire and sound rushed towards him and he felt his feet leave the ground from the force of the blast. He didn't see where he was going but he could feel heat of the flames and then sudden weightlessness as he fell into the darkness.

_I made my choice._

* * *

><p><em>I'm back after a hiatus, hope you all missed me. The above is the chapter that you were originally going to be left with before my little vacation. Just wanted to say I appreciate everyone that's reviewed, especially those of you that have been with me for the long haul. Always happy to hear from my readers!<br>_


	18. Chapter 17: Convictions

Chapter 17: Convictions

Tali didn't recall stepping off the shuttle. She didn't hear Garrus call out to her as she walked away nor did she even remember the ride up the elevator. Everything just seemed to disappear into a fog. Despite that gap in time, however, the young quarian wasn't surprised when she found herself standing at the door to Shepard's cabin. The lock was glowing red as it always did when he wasn't in.

Some desperate part of her mind told her to knock; if she knocked on the door, just like the dozens of other times she had come up to talk, it would slide open and he'd be standing there admonishing her for even bothering with the formality. Her three fingered hand splayed against the metal, cool even through her suit. Instead of knocking, she pressed the door lock once. The grating buzz as it refused her entry was like the scraping of nails on stone.

"E-EDI... I know I'm not... supposed to- if he didn't want me to- but I just need..."

"The door is unlocked now, Tali," the AI responded, her tone surprisingly gentle when it emerged from the speaker above.

With a familiar hiss the door opened and allowed her entry. She hesitated for a moment before she stepped across the threshold, sucking in a breath as she did. It looked the same as it had just a short time ago, the night when he had rushed her out without explanation. Shepard hadn't even cleaned up the mess from when he'd thrown his pistol. It looked as if he had simply picked up the weapon from where it lay among the debris and left the rest. Tiny fragments of the plexiglass were scattered all over the floor. Half a dozen of his model ships had been knocked from the case, some to the floor, others half-hanging from the case.

There, laying on the top of the terminal, was his model of the SR-1. Tali stepped closer and reached out to pick it up. As she lifted it one of the wings fell away in her hands, causing the quarian to frantically scramble to catch it... only to watch as one of the top fins broke away as well. No matter how hard she tried it seemed to be disintegrating in her hands.

She dropped to her knees and snatched up the pieces. With shaking hands she tried to put the wing back in place with no success. Another piece came apart with a faint crack. The thin piece of plastic breaking was enough to draw an agonized cry from her chest. She sat heavily back on the floor and cradled the ruined model as she began to sob.

"_Bosh'tet_... stupid... stupid_ bosh'tet_," she cried. "Why won't... why won't you just work... just stay together..."

Behind her the door hissed open once more, but she ignored it. She heard the sound of glass being brushed away as someone took a seat beside her. Tali started when an arm wrapped around her shoulders and she found Kasumi there.

"Hey, fishbowl."

Before she could even stop them sharp words leapt from her mouth like knives, the flash of anger the only thing that cut through the thick haze of her grief.

"Why did you stop me? I could have... could have done something... If you'd let me go I could have saved him!"

"Because then you'd be gone too," the thief replied quietly. "And I don't think he would have wanted that."

"You don't know!"

"Yes, I do."

She wanted to pull away but when she looked at the thief she could see tears in the older woman's eyes too. Kasumi had pulled back her hood to reveal a mass of jet black hair that contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Tears left glittering trails down her cheeks. Kasumi's hand squeezed her shoulder tightly.

"That's when you know someone loves you. When your happiness, your life, matters more to them than than their own."

"B-But I didn't ask for that!" Tali objected, fingers tightening around the small ship in her hands as she sucked in a ragged breath. "He didn't even say why..."

Kasumi shook her head. "I don't know what happened. Garrus told me that Shepard ordered him to leave. But there wasn't time for more than that."

"Garrus," the quarian hissed. "How could he leave Shepard behind? He was his best friend!"

"I don't know that either. But you can't think that Garrus would have done it willingly, can you?"

"I don't know what to think," she whispered, choking back another sob. "I c-can't do this again, Kasumi. The old Normandy... then seeing him a-again... I thought I was getting through to him but he... he said he didn't want to stay there! He joked with me. He was supposed to be right behind us..."

She felt the thief's hand gently rubbing her back. "I don't think it's a matter of what he wanted, sweetie."

Shepard's last words to her, so calm and casual, flashed through her head and unleashed another torrent of tears. For long minutes the two of them simply sat in silence. Kasumi held her as she cried, occasionally wiping away tears of her own. Whenever she thought she finally had it under control Tali would lift her head and see some reminder of what she'd lost, and the tears would come again. Even the fish, swimming lazily in their tank, made her cry. She didn't know how long they sat there but finally it felt as if she'd exhausted whatever reserves she had, instead just feeling numb.

"What now?" Tali asked. "Do the others... know?"

As if waiting for her to ask the ship's internal comms clicked to life and a faint cough echoed through the cabin. There was a brief pause and then a flanged voice began to speak. Garrus' tone was strained, but he managed to speak with the barest hint of a waver.

"_This is Garrus Vakarian addressing all crew. It is my... greatest regret that today I assume command of the Normandy. Some of you may already have heard... Commander Johnathan Shepard, my friend... my brother did not return from Utukku. He sacrificed his life to give us all a chance to stop the Reapers."_

He paused, whether it was to let the crew absorb the news or to marshal his own emotions Tali didn't know.

"_I've never been the one give speeches... that was Shepard's speciality. But I will make a promise to each of you and to his memory: No force in the galaxy, not Cerberus, not the Reapers themselves, will stop us from completing the mission that Shepard charged us with. We will end this war. In the weeks to come I don't know what will be asked of each us. What we will be asked to sacrifice. But no matter what comes, we won't forget the man that brought us together. That gave not just the people of this ship, but the galaxy itself, the chance to stand against the darkness."_

The quarian looked at Kasumi, both of them hearing an edge in Garrus' voice that was new. A hint of fire that went beyond his normal self-assurance and drive. Every word carried the sounds of pain, but also the sound of an undeniable anger. Not the fury of a krogan blood rage, but something that burned cold and endlessly.

"_Remember him. Remember our mission. Vakarian out."_

"We'll set course for the Citadel," Tali muttered, remembering the conversation she'd had with Garrus previously.

Her friend looked at her curiously.

"Garrus told me that Shepard had left instructions to turn everything over to him. That it had already been approved by the Council. I just... I just thought that Shepard was being prepared. Planning for the worst... but I never thought it would happen."

Kasumi patted her back one more time. "We never do... If I leave you here, will you be okay?"

She nodded and glanced around the room. Saw the glass, the ships, the general clutter. Shutting her eyes briefly she swallowed down the pain and stood, Kasumi following after her. This time when she spoke her voice was quiet, but calm.

"I'm... going to clean this up. It shouldn't be left like this."

"Okay," the thief agreed. "And if you need me, just call."

As the older woman turned to leave, Tali spoke.

"Kasumi?"

"Hm?"

"You said you knew. That... that J-John wouldn't have wanted me to follow him. How?"

The thief smiled gently and pulled her hood back up.

"The last message Keiji ever left me told me that he wanted me to go on. To be happy once he was gone," she replied. "He knew when he recorded it that he'd likely be dead within hours, but that was what mattered to him. To tell me to be happy because he loved me. If Shepard could have done so... I know his message to you would have been the same."

Then she was gone in a shimmer of light that slipped out the door, leaving Tali in a room of memories and debris. One by one she picked up the fallen models, trying to keep them together as best she could.

Each one brought back a memory and the threat of fresh tears. A quarian transport made her think of Shepard's speech at her trial, fire in his voice. She looked at the geth ship and remembered waiting to die on Haestrom, only to see him come striding in like some larger than life hero. The last one she found beneath the desk - an Alliance dreadnought that brought another sudden stab of pain.

Hannah Shepard. She had seen a report from Hackett that the older woman had survived the initial assault, even taken command of the remnants of one of the Alliance fleets. Beyond that there had been little information. Now all Tali could think of was the same woman that she had met, sitting all alone in a room just like this one when she received the news. Tali closed her eyes as a few more tears escaped.

"How could you do this to us?" she whispered to the small model in her hands. "Just tell me why..."

* * *

><p>When the elevator opened Kasumi could see that Garrus was still standing on the platform in the CIC, taloned fingers gripping the handrail as the turian gazed at the galaxy map. Traynor was at her terminal, head bowed, but drew herself up when the turian finally stepped down. She could see that their communications specialist's eyes were no drier than Kasumi's own had been.<p>

"Garrus... I mean... do I call you Commander now?" the woman fumbled.

"No. We only had one Commander," Garrus answered sharply, before his flanged voice softened. "Just call me Garrus, Traynor. I don't need a title."

"Yes, sir... Garrus. I'm sorry to bring this up now but I was going to show this to... to the Commander after the mission."

For the moment Kasumi simply watched. She had immediately slipped into old habits when she had left Tali in Shepard's quarters, activating her stealth net and moving silently. Neither of the other pair had even noticed the elevator doors open. The thief couldn't make out what was on the datapad that Traynor handed him, but if she moved any closer she knew that Garrus would catch her scent. Turians had damnably keen noses.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking at Traynor. A turian evacuation signal? I didn't know we had any ships in that area but..."

"It's a turian code, sir, but it also matches another code that we have on file," Traynor explained. "I noticed something seemed off when it came in and had EDI run an analysis. It has the same markers as the signal that was sent out by the Illusive Man to lure the Normandy to the Collector warship."

"You think it's Cerberus?"

The specialist bit her lip for a moment, but finally nodded. "You said it yourself. There aren't any turian ships reported in the area and that signal came from the Grissom Academy. Some of humanity's smartest young minds and most advanced technology are there."

"Meaning the Illusive Man would want both," Garrus said with a low growl.

"The... the Commander's death means you'll want to get to the Citadel as soon as possible. But if this is is Cerberus-"

The turian covered his eyes for a moment with his hand and sighed. After everything that had happened he just sounded tired.

"I know what Shepard would have done. I'll have Joker set a course."

EDI's voice came from Traynor's terminal before either of them could move.

"I have adjusted our heading, Garrus. Jeff is... indisposed at this time. I believe it would be best if the cockpit was considered off limits for the time being."

"Understood, EDI. If anyone has a problem with that they can take it up with me."

His tone made it clear that any such objections would be ill advised at best. Turian voices were strange, the dual tones sometimes made it harder to pick out certain emotions than for a human, but Kasumi thought she had learned fairly well in the past months. That cold anger was there in abundance, coloring everything. Most people wouldn't catch the faint pause before Garrus spoke. The slower speech patterns that told her he was thinking of everything he said carefully before he said it.

"Comm me when we're an hour out," Garrus told the tech. "I'll put together a team to investigate."

Traynor nodded. "Yes, sir. And... Garrus?"

His head turned to examine the dark skinned woman.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. Not all of us knew the Commander well, but we respected him. He was an amazing soldier."

Something flashed in the turian's blue eyes. "He was more than that, Traynor. That was just the face they put on the recruiting posters."

Before the specialist could respond he had moved past her, giving Kasumi just enough time to move away. Garrus jabbed one of the elevator buttons. The last thing that she saw was the turian slumping back against the wall just as the doors closed.

Kasumi sighed. She should follow him, she knew. But she would give him a few minutes alone. Since they had left the planet's surface Garrus' entire demeanor had changed. There had been a smattering of contention when they had stepped off the shuttle but he had quashed it almost immediately. Gone was the sharp tongued renegade that never seemed bothered by the current crisis. The vigilante had been replaced by a soldier. His cockiness has become cold self-assurance.

Instead of following she moved around the ship quietly, catching small snippets of conversation echoing in the otherwise silent decks. Crewmen talking about Shepard, of course. Stories that they had heard. Disbelief that he was gone. Far less whispers about a turian taking command of a human warship than she had expected, as well. It brought a sad smile to her face. Even when he wasn't at his best Shepard had made the Normandy his own.

When she found her way to the lower decks the thief she noticed only Adams was at his post and soon stumbled across another quiet conversation. It wasn't hard to identify who was speaking by the rough scottish brogue.

"I dunnae rightly know, Gabby... the universe is a shite place sometimes. If anyone deserved better it was 'im."

The loud sniff that came immediately after carried far in the corridors beneath main engineering.

"What's going to happen now that he's gone? First he saved us from the Collectors, then he got us both out of detention on the Citadel. We owe... owed him so much..."

"Then we'll be repaying him by finishing what the man had started 'ere. Garrus might be a turian but you heard him, lass, he's gonna pick up the torch. The fight ain't over. I don't plan to stop even if it means I have to pick up a rifle myself."

She heard Daniels give a weak laugh. "You're a terrible shot, Ken..."

"Then I guess I'll have to practice," Donnelly stated firmly.

"Please don't, Ken."

"What are ya talking about, woman?"

There was a moment of silence before the reply came, so low that even Kasumi's usually keen senses could barely pick it up.

"Because if you start trying to be that kind of soldier you might not come back either. You're an engineer. You belong here with... with me."

"Gabby... I..."

The strained, husky sentence was cut off when Kasumi heard the sound of movement and then a small sound of surprise, one soon turned into a pleased gasp. Another smile crossed her lips before the thief quickly slipped away. Despite her usual loose understanding of personal privacy... even she knew some moments should remain between just two.

The thief had someone else to visit anyway. The elevator ride to the crew deck was brief. A few members of the regular crew were sitting at the mess tables but she ignored them. Her objective, the main battery door, was glowing red. Of course Garrus had locked it behind him. A lock was the last thing that was going to deter her, however. A single press on her omni-tool triggered the mechanism and let her slip inside.

"Only one person on this ship would bypass a locked door without so much as knocking."

"I could just say that you forgot to lock it," she replied.

"I haven't forgotten to lock a door behind me since I started working at C-Sec."

Inside the battery the only light was the glow of the emergency lamps, painting the entire room in monochromatic red and deep shadows. She could just make out the outline of Garrus' tall form where he sat at the end of the room between the two main guns. The thief stepped down and around the railing for the gunnery console.

"Okay, so I'm not polite, etiquette wasn't something I needed a lot of to be a thief... but do you really think sitting here in the dark is a good idea?"

The growl that came from the end of the room was enough to give her pause.

"I just left my commanding officer... my best friend behind to die. Alone on some spirits-cursed planet full of bugs and dust. Do you think I give a damn about what anyone thinks is a good idea?"

He punctuated the statement with a loud clang, the sound of a fist striking metal. It appeared that his preternatural calm had only lasted long enough to make it back to the main battery. Ignoring the implied warning in his voice Kasumi stepped closer, keeping her voice low.

"Tell me what happened."

"It doesn't matter now."

"It matters to me. I'm sure it matters to Tali."

The turian jerked as if he'd been slapped and his taloned fingers curled into fists. With a heavy sigh he shifted and put his back to the wall before finally meeting her gaze.

"Does she hate me?"

Kasumi shook her head. "No. Right now she's just... lost. It's going to be hard for her. I wasn't there the first time, but I'm sure she took it hard. Losing him again..."

"It tore us all apart," Garrus rasped in response, shadowed gaze momentarily unfocused as he lost himself in a memory. "Everything that he'd built fell apart. I couldn't let that happen this time. Not when he trusted me to keep it together."

"You did that. The ship isn't falling apart. It's just the two of us here. You don't have to put on the 'commanding officer' face..."

He didn't respond, just dropped his gaze and let the silence draw out.

Turian psychology wasn't something she had ever bothered to consider beyond how to sneak past a particularly zealous guard. She could see the tension in his body despite the casual way he leaned against the wall, hear the ache in his voice as they spoke. And that pain made what she already felt worse, sympathy for a friend's grief at the death of another.

Once again it struck her how strange it was to think that in just under a year's time she had gone from being a solitary thief, a lonely one she could admit to herself in retrospect, to someone that called a Spectre, an admiral, and a vigilante her friends. After Keiji had been taken she had thrown herself into her work and her quest for vengeance. It had been a shy quarian girl in desperate need of a friend that had first forced her to connect to something other than her own grief, offering advice and forming a personal connection. Then an infuriating turian had kept her on her toes, giving as good as he got in their constant banter and occasionally slipping in some wisdom of his own.

What felt like a lifetime ago she had called them _nakama_. An odd, archaic term from her culture's language that had come to mean something akin to friends that were as close as family. It threatened to bring about fresh tears when the thief thought of how it had taken the loss of one of those three friends to make her realize how true it was. She had stopped being just a thief when she had joined Shepard's crew. All she could do now was offer comfort to the two that remained. In Garrus' case that meant forcing him to do more than bottle up everything inside.

Kasumi broke through her hesitation closed the distance between the two of them, reaching up to touch the sides of the turian's face. Her fingertips brushed his mandibles and forced him to meet her gaze again.

"Tell me, Garrus. It never has to go outside the three of us: you, me, and Tali. But you have to tell me... I can hear it weighing you down. What did Shepard tell you? What happened?"

To her surprise he didn't immediately pull away from her hands. It gave her time to realize just how warm turian scales were. The plates beneath her right hand were smooth and even, those beneath her other hand were irregular from the scars that marked the side of Garrus' face. Her significantly shorter stature was actually a help in this case. It made it far harder for him to avoid her gaze when they were in such close proximity unless he actively started looking up and away.

"I failed, Kasumi," the vigilante whispered harshly.

"You're going to have to explain that to me," Kasumi urged. "We all heard Shepard's plan, it should have worked. You were doing what you were supposed to do..."

A sigh forced its way past his lips and Garrus shook his head, finally pulling his face away from her hands but let them remain on his shoulders.

"No, not that. I should have seen it, I just didn't want to. Shepard... he never intended to make it to the surface. All this time we thought the war was wearing Shepard down. And it was, but it wasn't just the war. It was all of it. It was fighting, dying, waking up and going right back to fighting... one of the last things he told me was that he was going down the same path as Saren. And that he wouldn't let it come to that."

Kasumi couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped her lips, but it was ignored as he continued. The fists at his side continued to flex and relax, emotions causing the usual stoic turian's entire body to shudder.

"He was fighting a war for his own head all this time. I was supposed to be the one that always had his back. And I didn't see it."

"How did it happen?" she asked.

"I don't know. He was always afraid that the cybernetics that Cerberus used to bring him back were Reaper technology... and before turning himself in he told me about the Reaper artifact that he encountered in the Bahak system. He always said he was worried about becoming something he didn't want to be, but I laughed it off. I was so convinced that Commander Shepard couldn't be affected by something like that."

Kasumi tried to sound soothing. "No one saw it. Tali didn't either, I didn't... Chakwas... nobody. It's not your fault, Garrus."

The turian grasped her wrists in shaky hands, trying to push them off his armor.

"I should have... and because I didn't..."

His words trailed off even as he still held onto her wrists, a strange sound echoing in the back of his throat. Low and oddly melodious, but quickly choked off. A fragment of memory rose to the forefront of her mind. Kasumi had seen a turian funeral once and had been amazed at the stoicism of the bereaved until the final moments. Like almost all turian funerals it had been conducted with military precision and as the ranking officer had moved to light the pyre the widow standing nearby had given off a high-pitched, undulating cry.

Turians didn't possess tear ducts like those of most species. They had no ability to cry, they had evolved from true predators to never show pain or fear. Turian stoicism was as much an evolutionary trait as it was a societal one. The only way they possessed to show grief in the way that many other races did was with their voices. A primal throwback to the days when they had run in packs, hunted and died together, and mourned their dead with chilling howls that served as both a warning and an outlet.

"I'm not turian, big guy... you don't have to put on a mask... I know all about those."

Kasumi easily broke the weak grip of his talons and placed her hands on the sides of his face once more, this time pulling him down to her height. She could feel his body tense for a moment, trying to resist, until he suddenly dropped as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. The turian's armored knees struck the floor and Kasumi knelt with him.

This time she felt the vibration under her fingers as he let out a long, low keen. Garrus didn't resist when she wrapped her arms around him and a second later she felt him return the embrace. When the talons brushed her back the thief momentarily tensed but fought the instinct down and whispered soft, soothing words in her native tongue as she listened to his mournful cry. The pain there caused a few tears to stain her cheeks anew.

The sound finally trailed off and Garrus' head dropped forward. His cheek brushed hers as he panted. Once again she was reminded just how warm turians were, the scales of the former vigilante's face felt like sun warmed leather against her skin and the hands on her back radiated the same heat. Rather than question it she just relaxed into the mutual embrace.

As if waking from a dream Garrus suddenly pulled back and shook his head, mandibles flexing in silence while he searched for words before finally stammering out an apology.

"Sorry, I... shouldn't have... involved you with this. Turians don't usually let people see that other than family."

"I'm a thief. We're good at keeping secrets, remember?"

"True, it just wasn't fair to you," he replied. "Thanks, though, for trusting me. You accepting my order to leave, helping control Tali... it helped the others fall into line."

The thief smiled faintly. "That's what friends are for... I seem to recall you're the one that jumped in front of a thug with a vibroknife for me."

He laughed, a weak one but better than nothing, when she tapped his chest where the scratch had been on his old armor.

"I wear armor, you don't."

"And if the knife hadn't been inactive it would have cut right through it. You might try to pretend to be a jerk, but you're soft inside, Scars."

It was somewhere in those quiet seconds after she spoke that Garrus apparently realized that his arms were still around her, in truth she had almost forgotten the fact as well. He let go immediately and pushed himself to his feet, offering her a hand up. His mandibles flared as they moved back into the better lighting near the battery consoles.

"I... uh, sorry... I think I got a little..." the turian mumbled, gesturing to her face.

She cocked her head. "What?"

"Ah, your cheek."

Kasumi reached up to touch the side of her face and felt something on her skin. When she looked down her fingertips were stained. Confused she reached out to tap the nearby console and engaged the overhead lights, finally dispelling the angry red shadows that had previously blanketed the room. Upon reexamining her fingers she found that they were blue. Garrus' paint.

"Let me get that," Garrus said quickly.

He fumbled around the console, finally finding a small cloth that he brought up to wipe the smeared paint with surprising gentleness. It was more than a little fascinating that talons that were more than capable of tearing soft human skin open could also be so careful. The turian's reaction to the entire act was extremely odd, his nostrils flaring slightly and his crest flexing. If she didn't know better she would have sworn that the skin beneath his plates had flushed blue.

"Looks like you got a little smudged too," she added once he finished.

"Our paint isn't exactly rated for... ah, human interaction. We don't sweat so most of the stuff isn't even water proof."

She flashed a grin. "Sounds like an untapped market."

"If it was you'd think the volus would have gotten to it by now. Even this long after the 314 Incident... probably not that many turians get close enough to a human to worry about paint."

"Then I guess I'll take this as a compliment," Kasumi said, holding up her blue-stained fingers.

The turian coughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that suddenly reminded her just how alike he and Shepard had become. That thought drained some of the levity from her, snapping her back into the reality, but she didn't let it overwhelm her.

"Look, Kasumi... what I said, in here... it does have to stay between us. If Tali is willing to talk to me then I'll tell her too. But no one else can know that Shepard was suffering from... indoctrination."

He almost seemed to spit the word out, as if tasting it for the first time and finding it even fouler than he had imagined.

"I can keep secrets. What Keiji found... that still lives up here," she assured him.

"Add that to the things that I never want to know. I just wanted to make sure we understood each other," he said with a sigh. "Shepard will always be a symbol, even now that he's gone, but more than that I owe it to him. I won't let him be remembered in the same breath as Saren. You didn't know him before... when this all started. That's how he should be remembered."

"I promise you, Garrus, no one will ever know."

"And I believe you. Which is an odd thing to say. Three years ago I'd have been trying to arrest you."

"Please, a lowly C-Sec agent catching me?"

"Everyone gets caught."

"Not me," she countered, wagging a finger.

The turian moved with lightning speed and caught her wrist, his grip far firmer this time. She gave a small gasp of surprise and actually felt her cheeks flush when he didn't let go immediately, glad for the concealment of her hood.

"Everyone," he replied with a smirk and released her.

Kasumi smiled and shook her head. "Okay, Scars, point proven. Now... why don't you tell me about this mission involving Cerberus?"

"You never stop sneaking around do you?"

"Of course not. I'm sure it's just one of the many things you love about me," she shot back.

Oddly enough he didn't immediately reply, just fixing her with a stare. Without further response he turned back to the console. A few keystrokes brought up a report and various data streams.

"Fine. Take a look at this transmission that Traynor intercepted..."

* * *

><p>"What do we have, Joker?"<p>

"Cerberus."

The normally verbose pilot was far more reserved, but Garrus didn't make mention of it. There wasn't a need for discussion, everything he that needed know had been conveyed when he had stepped onto the bridge and met the human's eyes. The same mixture of pain, anger, and determination had been a mirror for everything that beat in his own chest. They had simply exchanged terse nods. A silent understanding between two people that had been with Shepard since the beginning.

"When did Cerberus get cruisers?"

"Do I look like I'm on the Illusive Man's frequent calling plan?" Joker replied acidly. "Everything checks out the same as any Alliance cruiser. That could be the _Capetown_ or the _Geneva_ from what the readouts say."

"Damn," the turian muttered. "We can't go in head on. If we take out the cruiser any troops they have inside might try to use the station personnel as hostages."

EDI spoke up.

"Our stealth systems will prevent detection at range, but any attempt to dock will likely be detected by external observation. Unlike geth, humans do seem to favor windows."

Scenarios danced in his head. C-Sec training that he hadn't recalled in months came back to the fore. A hostage situation would be bad. Not only would they have their victims isolated on a space station, easy to lock down, they would also be fanatics if the data Shepard had retrieved from the encounter on Mars was accurate. It also meant that any sort of negotiation was ultimately doomed to failure. Which left them with only one option, get inside before Cerberus realized they were there.

"Joker, can you give us a distraction? Get the cruiser and its fighter compliment to focus on the Normandy while we try to slip in with the Kodiak?" Garrus asked. "If we time it right we can be inside before they get a chance to lock things down."

The pilot nodded. "I'll give them the chase of a lifetime."

"Good."

Garrus tapped his omni-tool and opened his comm. "Javik, Legion... meet me in the shuttle bay in five. Full combat gear, close quarters."

He cut the line and headed for the elevator. While it made its slow crawl to the lower deck the turian sighed and leaned his head back until his fringe scrapped the metal wall. Everything felt wrong, like he was ten again and trying to wear his father's C-Sec uniform to play at being a cop. Shepard was supposed to be here, leading them all into hell and bringing them out again on the other side.

"Dammit, Shepard... this wasn't how it was supposed to go," he whispered to the empty elevator. "But I'll keep them safe. I promise."

The doors opened to reveal the shuttle bay and a familiar silhouette perched on the edge of the gun bench. She swung her legs idly and gave him a wry smirk as he stepped out of the elevator, eyes glittering beneath the shadows of her hood.

"Trying to leave without me?"

After Kasumi had come to him in the battery Garrus' thoughts had been even more scattered than usual. The turian part of him was ashamed to have shown the pain he felt so openly. But he couldn't deny the relief he had felt or the comfort that the touch had provided. The fact that it had done so, though, continued to plague him because he knew that he'd reacted to more than just the act itself. It had been the scent, faint perfume and aged paper, that always told him Kasumi was near along with her voice that had helped push past his barriers.

When she had first came aboard Garrus had been understandably suspicious. Years in C-Sec and six long months on Omega fighting criminals had left him bereft of trust, especially for someone that made a living at grand theft. It had been hard to keep the suspicion up in the face of her constant cheerfulness and good natured meddling. The way that she had quickly befriended Tali and helped the young quarian come out of her shell had been a nice surprise. For his own part more than a few of his evenings had been spent sitting at the small bar in the lounge. Kasumi had never pushed him about his past, his old team, or any of the other wounds he'd been carrying.

All of which left him in a very awkward position because he wasn't a teenager fresh out of boot camp. He recognized the feeling, the way he reacted to her scent, and how easily he had given in to her offer of comfort for what it was. At least for now, he had to focus on the mission. Everything else would have to wait.

"I'm only taking a small team," he told her simply.

"Four seems like a pretty small number to me."

"I was trying to keep it to people that... well, you know."

"Weren't as close to Shepard? Or in Legion's case just don't have emotions to worry about?"

He grimaced but nodded. For someone that claimed to be a loner Kasumi was far too perceptive for his good at times. Javik was the last of his kind and couldn't really be described as a friend to anyone. At best it could be said that he had respected Shepard for his determination. And while he wasn't sure if Legion was quite as emotionless as the geth claimed, he was fairly certain that the platform wasn't ever going to have a breakdown in the middle of a firefight.

The thief hopped down from the table and fixed him with a look.

"Then shouldn't you be the first one to be staying behind?"

"We don't have time for this, Kasumi. Shepard trusted me to lead his team and I'm going to do just that," Garrus replied and then lowered his voice. "Being turian is about more than marching and fighting... I'll be fine. But Shepard was your friend too, and I know that humans aren't always as good at... compartmentalizing."

Kasumi frowned up at him and jabbed one finger into his armored chest.

"This human is, Scars. And if you're breaking into one of the most advanced human facilities in known space... that's exactly what I'm good at," she stated firmly. "Which is why I'm going to make sure that you don't get yourself killed trying to protect the rest of us. Tali wouldn't survive losing both of you, even if she's mad now, and... I don't want you to get yourself killed either."

"I..." Garrus trailed off in surprise.

It was definitely the most forceful statement he'd ever gotten from the woman. Their banter had always been sharp words, an easy back and forth. Kasumi liked to use her wits and often times seem to treat everything as a game, but her words now had been deadly serious. He relented, snapped his mouth shut, and gestured towards the shuttle.

"Much better! You _can_ learn," the thief teased, climbing aboard the Kodiak.

He ignored the comment and addressed the the other two.

"Everyone ready?"

"I am ready, turian," Javik said. "I only hope that your dedication matches that of the Commander. This war could ill-afford his loss."

"Don't worry about my dedication. If you want to kill Reapers you're in the right place."

"This unit is also prepared, Vakarian-Spectre."

Garrus' head snapped around to focus on the geth's optic.

"What did you just call me?"

"We are aware of the information contained within the Normandy's databanks regarding Shepard-Commander's designation of yourself as successor," Legion explained, its flaps drooping slightly as it continued. "The loss of Shepard-Commander's runtime... is unfortunate and damaging to unit cohesion. We will serve in whatever capacity is necessary to complete Shepard-Commander's designated mission."

He was fairly certain the statement had been Legion's way of saying that it was with him, but Garrus had never been the best at interpreting the geth's hyper logical statements.

"I'm not a Spectre yet, Legion. But... thanks."

Cortez gave them the green light and the shuttle exited the Normandy. Once a few hundred meters of distance had been put between them Garrus saw the Normandy's drive flare brightly and the frigate accelerated rapidly towards the Cerberus' cruiser. Just as planned the larger ship immediately began to turn to track the smaller vessel, the cruiser's port guns already taking poorly aimed shots.

"Get us in, Cortez."

"Yes, sir," the pilot acknowledged.

The shuttle moved under stealth towards the station. With the Normandy lighting up their scanners Garrus was counting on the Cerberus forces not noticing a single shuttle slipping into one of the smaller docking bays until it was too late.

"This... Cerberus. They are the same ones that attempted to extract my stasis pod before Commander Shepard arrived, yes?" Javik asked.

"That's them," Garrus said. "I didn't realize they had become this overt, though."

The prothean's lips curled in disgust.

"They are fools. Shepard informed me that this Illusive Man stated his intent was to control the Reapers, use them as a tool. Some of our people believed the same during our war... they were all indoctrinated."

He saw Kasumi's lips twitch downward ever so slightly as Javik spoke and did his best to keep his own expression emotionless. For turians at least it was far easier than for humans and their wildly expressive faces.

"Cerberus has been trying to get their hands on any piece of tech they can find. It wouldn't surprise me if they've been working with too much Reaper tech. That just means that we have to get everyone off this station. We can't let them have access to a bunch of young biotics or the tech that the place is probably full of."

"This is an accurate assessment," Legion agreed. "Grissom Academy was noted by the Collective as one of the most likely locations to develop electronic warfare and viral suites capable of hindering the geth."

"So, yea... Cerberus plus Grissom, equals bad. Great," Kasumi said.

After that the shuttle was silent aside from the ever present hum of the engines. When they had almost reached the docking port that EDI had identified as the best location to board Kasumi leaned over and poked him in the ribs, her voice a whisper.

"I see you fixed your paint. One of these days you're going to have to explain to me why you don't have it just tattooed on if you're always going to be wearing it. Unless the whole point is just to get it on other people when they get too close like some sort of turian anti-theft device."

He was caught speechless the second time in so many minutes, finally rallying.

"Well, there is the part where my skin is covered in armored plates."

"Details, I can't believe someone hasn't thought of it before. You're going to make me start doing extranet searches."

The turian swallowed heavily. He desperately hoped that Kasumi's curiosity was only a temporary need to occupy herself while dealing with everything that had happened. The last thing he needed was for her to look up how exactly the paint was involved in many old turian traditions including adoption and marriage.

Cortez's voice called from the cockpit. "We've got a seal, you're good to go!"

"Thank the spirits," Garrus muttered.

No Cerberus forces were waiting for them much to the turian's relief. It appeared that Joker's distraction had gone as planned, now it was just up to the pilot to keep the Normandy in once piece so they had somewhere to extract to. He tucked his rifle into his shoulder and approached the nearest door.

"Javik, overwatch. Legion, you're on door duty. It looks like the whole damn place is locked down. Once we're through I'll take point. We look for survivors and send them back here for evac, clear?"

Three heads bobbed in agreement.

"Vakarian-Spectre... we are attempting to override, however security encryption is far in excess of previously encountered Systems Alliance countermeasures. Deactivation will take approximately two-point eight minutes per lock."

"I might be able to help with that," a harried voice said over the intercom. "I'm unlocking the door now, I'm in the control room down the corridor and to the right. Please hurry, Cerberus soldiers are outside!"

"Could be a trap," Kasumi suggested just as the door flashed green.

"I like traps. It surprises the hell out of people when they don't work," Garrus replied with a smirk.

The door opened and they rushed through, turning the corner at the end of the corridor at a run. Half a dozen Cerberus troopers were indeed standing just outside another locked door, one of them with a plasma torch. A cry of surprise went up as the enemy tried to shift their attention to this new threat, but it was far too little, too late.

Garrus' first burst of fire from the Vindicator caught the nearest soldier in the thin armor of his throat while Javik's strange rifle cleanly burned through the chest plate of a second trooper in the same instant. One of the Cerberus grunts did manage to fire off a volley from his submachine gun but Garrus simply dropped his head and let his shields and armor absorb the rounds, returning fire with two quick bursts from his rifle. The last two fell a second later, one to Legion's rifle, the other pitching forward as Kasumi materialized behind him holding a smoking pistol. One of the fallen soldiers shifted and earned himself another burst of fire for his trouble.

The door to his right opened and Garrus snapped his aim to the woman that stepped out. She was middle aged for a human, he'd guess, though that age distinction was already fuzzy based on their ever increasing life spans. He noted her Alliance uniform and let his finger off the trigger, but didn't lower his weapon.

"I'm Kahlee Sanders, I'm the one that sent the distress call out."

"You're Alliance?" he asked.

She nodded. "Civilian for a while, but once everything happened... back into uniform. I shouldn't complain about the help, but who are you?"

"Garrus Vakarian. I'm..." the turian hesitated for a moment before lowering his rifle and stepping forward. "I'm the current commanding officer of the Normandy."

"Vakarian? You were part of Shepard's team, David told me about you... but where is Shepard?"

He felt his mandibles draw tight against his face and he shook his head. "It's a long story, for now we need to get your students out of here. Why didn't you evacuate when Earth was hit?"

"Most of the students and staff did, but some of us volunteered to stay behind as did a few of the older kids," Sanders explained. "Shepard isn't the only one that believed in the Reapers. We've been working on every kind of technology we could here, training biotics. But now it looks like Cerberus wants those kids - and I can't let that happen."

"It won't. Can you clear me a path and direct us to where they're holed up?" Garrus asked.

"I can, but they're all over the station. I knew Cerberus was dangerous, but I never realized that they were this well equipped."

Garrus laughed bitterly.

"They fooled us all, but don't worry about that. We're not marines on guard duty."

He slapped a fresh thermal clip home in the rifle.

"This is what we do."

* * *

><p>It was times like this that he would have mentioned to Shepard just how stubborn is race was, but the thought merely made him scowl so he shoved it aside. The young biotic in front of them was clearly terrified. Garrus put on his best negotiator voice and stowed his rifle on his back, keeping his hands open in front of him. Every movement caused the student to start but the field he projected didn't waver.<p>

"Look, kid... I'm a turian. Behind me is a geth and a prothean, I bet you didn't even know they still existed, right?" Garrus patiently pointed out. "Do we look like the kind of people Cerberus would recruit?"

The answer was hesitant, but hopeful. "No?"

"So drop the shield and go. Kahlee Sanders is waiting back at the docking bay on B level. Any Cerberus troops between here and there aren't going to be a threat to anyone. You can keep standing here and not trusting me, but it sounds like your friends are fighting like hell on the other side of that door. The longer you keep us here, the longer it will take us to help them."

Finally the shield flickered and dropped. The young student's eyes were closed and he flinched as if expecting to be shot for his trust, only opening them slowly when that didn't happen. Garrus nodded.

"See? We're the good guys."

"Thank you!" the kid yelped and then bolted past them.

From behind the blast door an explosion could be heard, followed by the sound of automatic weapons fire. He glanced back at this small team.

"Sanders said most of them were making a stand, ready to go be the cavalry?"

Legion's flaps twitched upwards.

"Cavalry generally refers to soldiers mounted on domesticated animals or in modern terms to the use of armored vehicles, Vakarian-Spectre. We do not appear to possess any domesticated native lifeforms."

"Sometimes I think you are actually making a joke, Legion, but then it's gone," he replied wryly and then began issue orders. "Javik, you and I are going to straight in, get their attention on us. Legion, if you see any of them getting an angle on one of the students take them out. Kasumi, get to their position and provide support."

Without waiting for a response, he slammed his fist into the door controls and charged inside. These soldiers weren't nearly as off their guard as the first team they had encountered, but they still weren't expecting the sudden assault. In his peripheral vision Garrus could see that the students had taken the higher ground of the upper floor that looked down on the rest of the cafeteria. One of them apparently had good tactical sense.

"Officer, opposite door, right," Javik said calmly as he cut down one of the soldiers that was firing up at the students.

Garrus immediately zeroed in on the target that the prothean had called out and found the Cerberus soldier in his heavier silvered armor. He yanked a grenade from his belt and gave his omni-tool and audio command to charge the device before hurling it into the clump of troopers. The device exploded with a crackle of electricity and he watched as kinetic barriers flashed out of existence. A steady volley of fire followed up on that advantage and the soldiers began to drop, starting with their leader.

"Vakarian-Spectre, units are approaching your left flank!" Legion stated.

He spun in time to see three men come charging from one of the side rooms. The first dropped from a three round burst to the chest, but the others were far too close by then. He lashed out with the butt of the rifle and staggered the closest backwards, then delivered a vicious kick to the man's knee. It folded inwards with a sickening crack. Garrus caught the soldier's chin as he fell and used the Cerberus trooper's own momentum to snap his neck.

The last trooper was smart enough to forgo trying to bring his rifle to bear and instead swung at Garrus with an electrified baton that had sprung from the forearm of his armor. He ducked beneath the blow and swept the trooper's leg, knocked the other hand aside with his left and then drove his right hand forward twice into his enemy's throat with his talons held together like a knife. There was a choking sound that soon cut off when Garrus yanked the pistol from his hip, placed it against the soldier's ribcage, and fired twice.

A heavy thump came from behind and he shifted, still in a crouch, to point the pistol in the direction the sound had come from... only to immediately drop the barrel away.

"Jack?"

"You're damn right," the biotic growled and stalked towards him.

She had changed in six months. The tattoos were still there, of course, but considerably more of them were covered now that she wore some kind of leather jacket. Her shirt wasn't exactly what he'd have called modest, barely being more than translucent, but the most striking addition was the fact that she had hair. Still shaved at the sides, but quite a bit of dark brown hair was tucked back in a ponytail.

"This is the last place I expected to find you."

"Didn't realize you were keeping track of me, scales," Jack growled and shoved him in the chest. There was a haze of biotic power around here, giving an almost visible glow to her anger.

"Where the fuck is he, Garrus? How many times did I warn him about Cerberus? He always gave me that crap about how they wouldn't do anything stupid and all that bullshit, well now some of my guys are dead because of Cerberus! So where is Shepard so I can punch his stupid ass?"

Garrus knew that Jack's anger at Cerberus was justified, but it didn't stop his response from coming out as a barely coherent snarl.

"He's dead, Jack."

To his surprise the biotic field around the tattooed woman disappeared instantly.

"That shit's not funny, Vakarian."

"Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" he snapped back.

Jack took a step back, shaking her head. "There's... just no way. Shepard was the toughest son of a bitch I'd ever seen..."

"It's true."

Kasumi appeared at his side and placed a hand on his elbow, a silent reminder and reassurance that he took to heart. Closing his eyes briefly he reigned in his sudden burst of anger. It felt a little too good to take his anger out on Jack. She wasn't the cause. If anything she deserved better, she had been crew. Part of the unit. Even if it was an unstable part.

"He died less than two days ago," the thief continued, voice somber. "We were on a mission and he was... forced to choose between his life and the life of the rachni queen. He stayed behind so she could escape."

"Shepard died for a bunch of fucking bugs? Dammit," Jack said, her voice becoming quieter as she spoke. "Only reason I'm here is because some of his do gooder crap rubbed off on me... then the bastard went and got himself killed."

"We do not have time for this discussion," Javik interjected. "More soldiers will come soon."

This, of course, caused another shocked reaction from the biotic. The hazy field of energy sprung up again and her gaze locked on the prothean.

"Okay, then what the fuck is that? Because I might not do a lot of reading but I know that it ain't a rachni."

Javik actually gave a small laugh. "Ha... no, I am prothean. My people held the rachni in check before your species even evolved. I sense an undisciplined mind in you, human, but great power. You have a fire inside you. This is good. You will need it."

"Assuming I believe that shit... now what?" Jack asked.

She gestured up at the line of teenagers that were looking down at them in obvious awe. With Jack leading them they had acquitted themselves well, Garrus had seen more than a few Cerberus troopers on the way that had been taken out by biotics and they had been holding out against the onslaught without help until his team had arrived. But they were still just kids that shouldn't have had to see the things they just did.

"Now we get off this station," Garrus replied and turned to Legion. "Find the nearest terminal and tell Sanders to give you full access. Can you rip everything off the station database?"

"Affirmative, but this platform does not possess the free data storage capacity for such a large volume."

"Then upload it to the Collective... er, your Collective. The good one."

"You're going to upload all of the Alliance's top military projects to the geth?" Kasumi asked in surprise.

He shrugged. "It's either that or they're gone forever when we blow this station to hell. If the Alliance doesn't like it they can sue me."

Jack threw up her hands. "I don't give a rats ass about the Alliance and their secrets, but did you forget the big damn cruiser out there?"

"Not at all," Garrus replied and opened his comms. "Joker?"

There was a short pause and then the reply came with the faint crackle of static.

"I'm here."

"We've secured the students."

"Great, what does that have to do with me at the moment?"

Garrus cracked a predatory smile. "It means we don't have to play nice with that cruiser anymore. Show them what all that Cerberus money paid for."

"Aye aye... EDI, prepare for a high-G turn. And then ready the main guns. We're going to show'em our teeth."

He couldn't see it, but he heard the same smile being returned on the other end of the line. The turian jerked his head towards the way they had come.

"Come on, Jack... let's get these kids out of here."

* * *

><p>"Report."<p>

"The mission to the Grissom Academy was a failure," a voice said over the comm.

Kai Leng stood just behind and to the side of the Illusive Man's seat, but he could see the look of disgust flash across the assassin's face before his expression returned to its passive state.

"We sent an entire cruiser to secure a barely staffed space station filled with children. I find that hard to believe," the Illusive Man replied.

With a touch one of the screens expanded to fill the entire monitor, displaying everything from a blueprint of the facility to a detailed personnel list. The biotic potential of the students would have been a significant boon to Cerberus' forces. Technologically, most of what the school had contained was no more advanced than what he already had access to. The several working prototypes within would have quickly advanced numerous projects overnight, however.

"The only truly dangerous individual in the entire facility should have been Subject Zero. And I would have thought and entire platoon would have been enough to take down on biotic... even a powerful one."

"The last transmission we received from the cruiser was that the Normandy had jumped in system and they were moving to pursue," the voice said.

He inhaled deeply before blowing out a trail of smoke and dashing his cigarette in the ashtray on his chair.

"The Normandy?"

"Our teams aboard the station were wiped out but not before they were able to send out a databurst. The team that boarded the Grissom station was lead by Garrus Vakarian."

The Illusive Man leaned forward slightly in his chair.

"And were they able to confirm the other information?"

"Yes, sir. We only got a partial conversation before the armor recording units ran out of emergency power but, according to statements made by both Kasumi Goto and Garrus Vakarian, Commander Shepard was killed in action on Utukku."

"Very well. Continue preparations for Operation Keystone."

He cut the transmission off and leaned back in his chair once more, examining the myriad data screens in front of him. It was an odd thing to hear. Shepard had been such an important part of his plans in recent times and for a short time he thought that the other man would understand. All the elements of his personality were there. The drive, examples of extreme pragmatism, personal tragedy. Everything that should have made him Cerberus' finest champion. But there had been too much of an idealist left buried inside the soldier.

"I believe it's time to execute Operation Keystone. The failure of the Grissom mission is disappointing but with Shepard out of the picture it only makes the mission's success an almost certainty."

Again, a quick curl of the other man's lips. The briefest flash of contempt.

"You put too much stock in Shepard. Did you really believe one man could have stopped our plans?"

"Too many people underestimated Shepard and paid the price, Leng. Cerberus is finally in a position to catapult humanity to the heights of power because I have learned to never underestimate my opponents," he informed Leng. "Mercy, idealism... they're all weakness. But to respect your opponent is quite the opposite."

Still not looking back at the other man, he gestured to the small dossier that had appeared at the corner of one of his screens at the sound of the fallen Spectre's name.

"Shepard was a man that saw the big picture. He fought with the determination that only true conviction can bring. There is no man more dangerous that one that knows, beyond a doubt, that he's doing the right thing."

The assassin shook his head. "If Shepard was so astute he would have joined us when he had the chance. The destruction of the Collector base showed him to be a short sighed fool. And his... relations with an alien only further prove his failings."

The Illusive Man frowned. Kai Leng, for all his usefulness, was still a blunt instrument. He was highly intelligent but he would also be subject to his fears and prejudices. Such sentiments had been what allowed him to create Cerberus in the first place, but he hadn't lied to Shepard when he had told him that he held no particular hate for aliens. They were a means to an end. The salvation of mankind from the tyranny of the Reapers and the key to their rise as the dominant force in the galaxy. A way to fulfill a promise made lifetimes ago.

"What about the implants? Are you feeling any ill-effects?" he asked, changing the subject.

Kai Leng held up his hands and looked at them, flexing his fingers experimentally.

"None."

"Good. I need you at your best. We're on the cusp, Leng... the final pieces are falling into place. Make sure that there are no problems."

"I will ensure the mission's success," Leng said.

"See that you do."

Leng was gone an instant later, as always without a sound. Like a game of chess these moves had been planned years, sometimes decades, in advance. Adjustments had been made as new information had arisen and circumstances had changed, but the final goal had never wavered.

The Illusive Man reached down and opened the small container beside his chair, retrieving a fresh cigarette and lighting it. His old habit satiated he reached for the other. A long pour of scotch doused the ice in his glass with amber liquid.

He raised the glass to an empty room and then took a sip.

* * *

><p>The dark was like a blanket wrapped around him, but it carried no warmth. His eyes must have been open but there was nothing to see. Just blackness. The absence was almost comforting in its own way, like a sign that it was finally over. All around him the void seemed to press down and tell him to just shut his eyes. Sink into the nothingness and let it carry him away.<p>

Somewhere in the distance he heard the ghost of a sound. A melody, muffled and slow. Single notes as if it was being picked out a single key at a time on a piano. Each note pushed through the darkness a little farther than the first. Brought memories swirling out of the shadows.

A single low note.

"_I can't just take her from you, sir." _

"_She's your ship now, Shepard."_

_The Normandy sat moored at the dock, all sleek lines and fresh paint. She represented more than just the most advanced ship in the Alliance. She was the freedom to go out and make a difference, and she was also the trust of the man that had been his friend and mentor for years._

_He came to attention and snapped a salute._

"_I'll take care of her, Anderson."_

_His former captain returned the salute and smiled._

"_I know you will, son. I know you will."_

He hadn't kept his promise, though. The original Normandy had died over Alchera. Before he could sink into the old pain another note pierced his consciousness.

"Garrus?"

_The turian cocked his head, eyes narrowed. "How do you know that name?"_

_"I doubt it's one I could ever forget," Shepard grinned, reaching up to remove his helmet. "What did Tali call you whenever you were picking on her? Her 'Big blue armored bosh'tet'? Never did find out exactly what bosh'tet meant."_

_"By the spirits..." Garrus said, sounding slightly strangled. A moment of suspiciousness flashed in his eyes, but at Shepard's words the spark of recognition quickly overrode it. The turian stalked across the room with such speed that his two Cerberus companion's nearly raised their weapons again. He grabbed the human in a back slapping hug that nearly lifted Shepard off his feet._

_"You son of a bitch! I should have known! Who else would pull off a stunt like that on the bridge... but how the hell are you alive? I watched the Normandy burn... I was at your damn funeral!"_

_The turian struck his chest at the word funeral with one armored fist._

_"It's a long story, Garrus. Let's just say I got put back together at great expense of time and credits. I've been out for the last two years."_

_His old friend smiled wickedly._

_"Hell, Shepard... you come back from the dead and this is how you spend your time? And what happened to your face? I know two years is a long time but what did you try to do... mate with a varren?"_

In the darkness he groaned while the melody grew. Single notes had become faster and more complex, the music calling to him all the way to his bones. It began to change and shift, voices singing wordlessly in his thoughts.

_"I seem to recall that's how I met a certain quarian girl," the __Spectre__ pointed out. "It's just who I am."_

_Tali leaned over him, straddling his waist and kissing him with sudden need. His hands cradled her face, letting her set the pace. When she pulled back the look she gave him spoke volumes._

_"I remember it. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. But that day that the Normandy was destroyed, looking helplessly out of an escape pod was one of the worst. I don't... I don't know if I can survive that again, not after this, after finally feeling everything I've missed all these years," she told him through tears._

_Shepard kept his hands on either side of her face, fingers lightly tracing the small ridges that were her ears. Using his thumbs he brushed away the stains on her cheeks. When he spoke it was with every ounce of conviction he possessed. He had told her once that he couldn't keep the promise that her father made to her, but he could at least promise to try._

_"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, I will let nothing keep me from coming back to you. I'll fight my way out of hell if I have to. I don't know what will happen tomorrow, or when we finally fight the Reapers... but I'm done just surviving, I want a life, and I want it to be with you. If that's not worth fighting for I don't know what is."_

The song became a symphony.

John Shepard woke all at once, sucking in a breath. Eight sapphire blue orbs glowed in the darkness.

_Sings-of-Endings._

When he spoke his voice was dry and cracked, but it was his own.

"I made a promise."

* * *

><p><em>As promised, I tried not to leave you hanging for too long! <em>I did resist the urge to temporarily change the story tags to Garrus V. and Tali'Zorah, at least ;)<em> Thanks for all the reviews and feedback both publicly and privately, I'm always interested in what people think. _

_This arc had been planned for awhile and Shepard wasn't always guaranteed to wake up at the end. I know that would have made a great many people angry but at the same time I think it would have been a good story to tell all the same.  
><em>


	19. Chapter 18: Worth Fighting For

Chapter 18: Worth Fighting For

_We had feared you would not awaken, Sings-of-Endings._

Pain flashed through Shepard's head when he sat up and a wave of dizziness nearly overtook him. Before he could fall backwards he felt something cool and smooth against his back supporting him and quickly realized it was the queen herself. He groaned and when he spoke his voice was dry and raspy.

"I almost didn't. It just felt like I wanted to sleep and then... I heard a song. And the longer I listened the more I remembered. The things I'd done. Promises that I had made."

The glowing eyes nodded, a rather good imitation of the human gesture that made him wonder if the queen had picked it up from his mind.

_Too many dissonant songs in your mind. Too much pain. We sang to you as we would a hatchling, memory-songs to give light in the darkness._

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

For the moment Shepard sat in darkness and tried to gather his thoughts, taking stock of his situation. His head was pounding but it wasn't the same feeling that had become all too commonplace in the past days. The ever-present pressure behind his eyes had been replaced by the dull throb of a skull that had taken too much of a beating. Roughly at the time he reached up to touch the tender spot on the back of his head he realized that his armor was gone, or most of it at least. From the waist up only the torn remnants of his undersuit remained.

"What happened?" Shepard asked. "The last thing I remember..."

The memory flashed back in a rush. A deafening roar as the fire tore through the ranks of the corrupted rachni. The blast lifting him from his feet. And the sensation of weightlessness. Even the sense of peace as he finally let go.

_Memory-song is true. You fell and we heard your song. You sung many notes. Anger. Defiance. Despair. Fear. You sought to end your song to deny the will of the dark-song destroyers._

He nodded. "Yes. I've seen what happens to those that the Reapers corrupt. I... I won't let them use me like that. If the choice is living long enough to become the monster or dying here... I'd rather my death have some meaning."

_Yes, we heard all these notes. But your undersong also sang of will and power. We could not let your song fall into silence. We caught you and brought you here, deep and safe. We sang to you, but it is your will that returned your mind to this world. Our song was always the path._

"Did your song... do something to me? I don't hear the voices. The whispers."

_The sour yellow notes?_

"Yes. The sour yellow notes."

The queen's melody in his mind took on a regretful tone.

_Our song drives them away, but we can only shield you from their dissonant tones while we touch your mind. If we were to try to meld your undersong with our own as we would our children it would destroy you. Our minds are too different._

He sighed and covered his face with his hands, ignoring the dirt and soot he felt coating them.

"My mind reminded me of the promises that I've made. But I can't keep them... not if it means I'll just fall under their sway the moment we're apart."

_Your song is not one of surrender, even when it is about to be silenced you attempt to strike back, Sings-of-Endings._

"I don't even know what that means... Sings-of-Endings? Wasn't that what I was trying to accomplish? An end to all of this?" Shepard growled in frustration. "I spent months fighting the things that lived in my head. Wondering if I was going insane. It took everything I had just to realize what was happening in my own mind."

_As we sang to Devotion-Singer, all things must end. Some through chance or circumstance. Others are inexorable, only ending with the passage of time. Cycles of behavior, evolution, instinct. But there are those few who exert their will on the undersong of the universe. Those who through force of will can change the destiny of things to come._

In the darkness the queen shifted, her armored appendage leaving him gently as she shifted and watched him with her glowing blue eyes. The eyes and her song seemed to bore into him with every moment that she continued.

_You are Sings-of-Endings. Your song since your hatching has been one of determination and strife, born of a queen of battle and a brood-father who would fall fighting against insurmountable odds. Within you burns the memory-song of the same defiance._

"What does that have to do with 'endings'?" he demanded.

_With endings come change. The choices that you have made would break patterns long established. You are a taker of life songs, but a defender of your hive. You stand against the oppression of Devotion-Singer's people and seek to end the cycle of hatred between her kind and the cold-song singers they created. Your bond with Sings-Loyalty is stronger than those of brood and blood despite the war between your species. And when the dark-song destroyers demanded your submission your song only grew louder with defiance. You would bring about the end of all and let that which is new flourish unhindered by the shackles of the past._

Shepard's first instinct was to tell the queen that she was wrong. He was a soldier. A sniper, a killer. A broken tool that had long outlived its usefulness. Matching gazes with the rachni, though, he couldn't give voice to his objections. There was unshakeable belief behind her lilting words. It spoke to him not just of what she believed, but of what was needed. He took a deep breath.

"That's a difficult title to live up to."

_You must defeat the poison in your own song before you can stand against those who would continue the cycle._

"I don't know how."

_You must listen. And you must fight._

Shepard's dry lips cracked when he smiled, but he ignored the pain that traced every muscled of his body.

"Fighting I can do."

* * *

><p>Garrus tried very hard not to flinch when Tali followed him into the airlock. He had surprisingly managed to convince Kasumi that he should meet the Council alone with only minimal argument. It had immediately made his cop instincts trigger, but after the last few days he decided it was better not to press the issue. Instead the thief had decided to help Jack get the students settled in somewhere aboard the Citadel.<p>

The silence seemed to grow thicker with each passing moment. Tali shifted her weight from side to side, but didn't speak. Finally he sighed and turned to face her.

"No audio pick ups in here, Tali... just say it. I'll understand," he said quietly and spread his arms, palms up. "Hit me. Scream at me. I won't stop you. Spirits know I deserve it."

As expected the quarian threw herself forward, but the anger Garrus had expected didn't follow. Instead he suddenly found her arms wrapped around his waist and her visor against his armored chest. He felt her shake and put his arms around her shoulders. The simple embrace was possibly the one gesture that translated across every species boundary.

"Big blue_ bosh'tet_."

Over her head his mandibles quirked into a rueful smile. "That's me... dammit, Tali, I'm sorry. But I couldn't let you go after him. He wouldn't have wanted that."

"K-Kasumi told me," she managed. "I spent all night wanting to hate you. And then hating Shepard. And then hating myself for not seeing. If I had just figured it out... I could have... have..."

"Don't go there," Garrus warned, cutting her off. "I know all about hating yourself. It makes you think crazy thoughts, it chews you up inside until you can't think of anything else and if you let it the hate takes over everything."

"Sidonis?"

He nodded and hugged the quarian tightly before placing his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back.

"Shepard kept me from making a decision I'd regret. Take it from the voice of experience... don't make the same mistake."

"I don't know what else to do. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen," Tali replied, looking away, her voice sounding hollow. "I just sat in his quarters and looked at everything that he left behind. But there's so little... a few clothes, some model ships. A datapad. He did so much. It feels like there should be more."

"He never seemed to care about things all that much."

He squeezed the young engineer's shoulders gently.

"I can't tell you what to do, Tali. But I'll keep my promise to fulfill Shepard's mission. That includes giving your people back their home."

Tali's head snapped up at that statement. "Garrus..."

"Once the politics are out of the way I'm going to request that the Council provide us with whatever resources Legion needs to make his plan work," he stated firmly.

"We both know the Council has never given a damn about my people. Shepard... John was the only one that ever wanted to help. He didn't just help me. Every time he saw someone mistreating a quarian he stepped in. He stopped it. I'm not going to expect you to do the same."

The turian frowned. He knew the tone in her voice. It sounded like someone who had given up. It was the same tone he heard often in his days with C-Sec, from the drunken patrons he escorted out of bars after a long night of trying to drown their sorrows to the victims of the worst crimes that he'd born witness to on the Citadel. Far too many times he had seen those same people again when the medical team had called him to the scene of a suicide.

He would be damned before he let Tali follow that path. As far as he was concerned she was his responsibility now. Shepard had loved her. He and Shepard had bled together in battle. Friends and brothers, by the fallen Spectre's own admission. By his logic that made Tali as much family as his own sister Solana. Garrus gripped her shoulders firmly and gave the woman a shake.

"That's enough of that."

"Enough of what?" she asked, voice irritated. "I'm not going to fool myself, Garrus..."

"You're not fooling yourself. It's going to happen. And you're going to help me."

Garrus reached over and slapped the airlock release button. The cycle had long since finished. Bodily shifting the quarian around he pushed her ahead of him out the airlock and onto the docks.

"I... I just want to stay on the ship," Tali protested.

"If you do that, then you'll just sit alone thinking of what you should or could have done to change things. No matter how many times you go over it in your head it'll never get easier, you'll just obsess over it more and more until it's the only thing that you can think about. You're coming with me to see the Council. Let them see the people that were with him from the beginning."

As expected the engineer balked, rolling her shoulders out of his grip and backing towards the Normandy. She turned away and reached for the door controls.

"I can't, Garrus... I just... I can't."

"You're coming," he repeated in a firmer tone. "That's an order from your captain."

Her reaction was immediate. The engineer whirled on him, silvery eyes flashing behind her visor while he carefully kept his own face a tightly controlled mask. Garrus knew that his words would be like needles prodding an open wound and he regretted every one of them, but not enough to let Tali draw back into herself. He was afraid that if he did she'd never come out again.

"Don't you dare!"

"Dare what?" Garrus asked, stepping forward and crossing his arms. "Shepard passed on command to me. That makes me the Normandy's commanding officer. Your captain."

Tali's fingers balled into fists. "Stop saying that!"

"I'm your commanding officer now. I learned a few things about quarians in the past three years, Tali. When you serve on a ship the captain's word is law. Even for an admiral. So what orders do you have that supercede mine?" he demanded.

"I... because... you're not... not my _hesh'la_..." she stammered, voice fading into that wavering tone once more.

"No, but I am your _hesh'alan_ now."

Her own language from turian lips was once again enough to yank her attention back to the present. Garrus smiled gently and shrugged.

"What, you think in all this time I would never have looked that word up? Aethyta made sure that I heard it back on Illium. I _was _a detective for quite a few years; curiosity was part of the job description," he explained and reached out to place a hand on Tali's arm. "I can't be him, Tali. But I can try to do what he would have wanted. That's the best that we can all do. And do you think he would have wanted you to sitting alone? Giving up?"

Silence again, but finally Tali sighed and shook her head.

"No."

"Then help me finish what he set out to do. Don't let them win," Garrus asked fervently. "Things might not have mattered to Shepard, but people did. Your people. You."

At last Tali's head came up. Her voice still cracked but her posture straightened and she nodded, meeting his eyes.

"How do we do it?"

"How else? We fight for it."

* * *

><p>"Before we do this I have a question," Shepard said.<p>

Now that he was fully awake Hope-Singer had led him into another connected cave. How far down they were the Spectre wasn't certain of, but he suspected it was far from the chill in the damp air. It hadn't been easy to navigate the uneven floor in the almost complete darkness but before long they had found more of the same glowing lichen that he had seen before. The cave they were in now wasn't exactly well lit, but at least the pale glow was enough for him to see by.

_What do you wish to know?_

He spread his arms and gestured at himself.

"Where the hell is my armor?"

The queen's mental song took on brighter colors in his mind, a flash of blues and greens. He realized it was amusement.

_Your outer carapace was damaged by fire and many pieces of shrapnel. We removed the upper portion. Our warriors molt damaged carapaces._

"I'm not even going to ask how," he muttered before taking a seat on a nearby rock. "At least I woke up wearing pants."

_We sing apology-songs, but were unable to preserve your other tools._

At the rachni's gesture at his person Shepard looked down and noticed that his pistol was still at his hip. The next time someone made a comment about how a polymer holster was old fashioned in an era of magnetic attachments he was certainly going to have a compelling counter argument. He reached down and ran his thumb along the grip, feeling each notch. It reminded him of how far he'd come and how far he had left to go.

"It doesn't matter now, I'm just glad to see the most important one stuck with me," Shepard said. "Now I need to know how we're supposed to do this. You said you can't... touch my mind the same way you would another rachni."

_We cannot. Even if it succeeded in driving out the sour-yellow notes you would not be the same as you were. Your song is strong enough to survive but it would forever become part of us. You would be rachni._

He frowned. "Yea, as much as I appreciate everything... I'd rather not join a hive mind. No offense, but the idea of everyone hearing what I'm thinking and vice versa is a little bizarre."

_It is understandable. We find the individual minds of other species to be equally strange. When we first heard the songs of the scientists on the frozen planet we did not understand how there could be so many songs with different notes in a single place. Among our kind so many different songs would cause chaos._

"It causes chaos among us too, but it's how we like it. If I didn't know any better, though, I'd think that you were stalling."

The queen shifted and settled her massive body on the cave floor so that her head was on level with his own.

_We merely wished to give you time to prepare. While we cannot meld our song with your own to cleanse you of the sour notes as we would one of our children... your kind does not see into their memory-songs as our people do. Our song might allow us to lead you to places within where you can face the discordant notes._

"You mean how your song made me see the past?" he asked.

_Yes. You cannot escape the dark-song destroyers corrupting song because of the devices within you. They help you live, but they also connect you to something beyond yourself. To be free of the dark-song destroyers call you must drive them from your self. Undersong and oversong must sing in harmony. When they do the sour-yellow notes cannot stand against such purity._

"I think I understand."

_We cannot know what will come to pass, Sings-of-Endings. If the notes cannot be made to sing in harmony then your entire melody could unravel. Your song could fall into silence forever._

"My song could have ended a thousand times before now. It did already once, and almost again now. If that's the risk I have to take to know that my mind, my body, and my soul are purely mine again? Then let's do it."

There was silence in the cave for a second while the queen watched him as if weighing his words. If it was his determination that she sought to gauge it was apparently to her satisfaction.

_Calm your mind and listen to our song..._

* * *

><p>Councilor Tevos bowed her head at the turian standing before her.<p>

"Words cannot express the regret we felt when we received your message. We owed Commander Shepard a great debt for his service to this Council and to the galaxy as a whole."

It took every ounce of self control left to her for Tali not to cause a scene. She held bitter questions behind her lips. If the Council owed Shepard so much why had they turned their back on him at every opportunity? Her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. Three years ago they could have believed the man that had saved all their lives. If they had then maybe the galaxy would have been ready for the Reapers. Maybe Shepard would still be alive.

"You owe him everything!" Garrus snapped, jabbing a finger at the trio. "Because of Shepard there's a galaxy left to fight for. Spare me your platitudes, Councilor. Those of us that stood by his side through it all will remember him for what he was, not what your political designs need him to be."

She looked at Garrus in gratitude. At least he wasn't willing to let the Council off without some acknowledgement of the part they had played in all of this.

"We understand your anger," Velarn said. "The loss of a friend and a comrade is never easy-"

"Enough."

Tali blinked behind her visor when she realized it wasn't Garrus' flanged voice that had cut off the salarian, but that of Sparatus. Ever since Shepard's appointment as a Spectre the turian representative had been his harshest detractor, always questioning every decision and the first to deny the existence of the Reapers.

The turian Councilor's gaze turned to his counterparts. "The man died doing his duty. Those that served under him deserve more than hollow words and speeches. I doubt highly that Vakarian cares for you sympathy or your opinion."

"For the first time in three years we agree," Garrus said wryly.

"Despite what you may think of me I am a turian first and a politician second," Sparatus replied. "I know why you're here and what you want. Not trusting Shepard nearly cost us the galaxy once already, I do not intend to make the same mistake again. Whatever our differences if he believed that you were worthy to succeed him... then you have my vote of confidence. Councilors?"

Velarn and Tevos both looked at each other, clearly more than a little taken aback at the turian's sudden shift in opinion, but finally nodded.

"Garrus Vakarian, please step forward," Tevos requested.

The former vigilante took a single step closer and clasped his arms behind his back. It was an image that made Tali's throat tighten. Once, during those all too few quiet moments when they'd been able to lay in each others arms, Shepard had told her that he looked forward to the day that he could stand by and watch as the Council granted Garrus status as a Spectre. He had always known that Garrus possessed those intrinsic qualities that it took to become one of the elite few.

Sparatus placed his hand on the nearby console for authorization, his gaze clearly locked with that of his fellow turian.

"It is the decision of this Council that you be granted all of the rights and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel. It is said that Spectres are born, not trained, but you prove both are true..."

"To be made a Spectre was once considered an honor but now burden that we place upon you is great and the price of failure is far too high to imagine," the asari councilor added.

"Spectre Vakarian, we cannot pledge the resources of our own governments. We are merely representatives," Velarn concluded, spreading his hands. "But the resources of this Council are at your disposal."

She was certain that Garrus was surprised by the sudden change in tone from the Council, but he didn't show it.

"There are supplies, advanced electronics among other things, that we'll need as part of the mission to free the geth from Reaper control," he stated simply. "We're also going to need a resupply for the Normandy. Where the hell is Udina, anyway? I expected him here to be a pain in the ass."

Tevos sighed.

"Councilor Udina has been busy attempting to coordinate relief efforts for the Alliance colonies. C-Sec will assist you in requisitioning any items that you require. May the goddess watch over you."

It was over almost before she realized it. The Council filed out of the room and left she and Garrus standing in silence. With a few words the task of saving a galaxy had been passed down from one man to another. The brevity had made it seem almost common place but it didn't take much for the young quarian to realize the truth: the Council was afraid. For centuries little had changed in the galaxy, now there was chance that they could lose it all.

"I thought I'd feel different," Garrus said suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I've dreamed of becoming a Spectre ever since the first day I was selected for the training," the turian explained, looking out the window at the expansive view of the presidium. "Even after my father convinced me not to accept and I joined C-Sec the thought was always there. Shepard told me that I could do it, practically ordered me to go for it after we took down Saren."

"He was right," she said.

The turian sighed. "Maybe. But this... this was never how I wanted to become a Spectre."

Tali didn't know what to say. She had no comfort to offer. Garrus' words outside the Normandy had been enough to make her see that she still had a duty, not just to the Fleet and her people, but to Shepard. Ever since he had saved her so long ago in the Citadel's back alleyways, he had given her so much. To surrender to the pain she felt now would feel like a betrayal. So she used that new-found strength to tuck the pain away, deep in the dark corner of her soul.

Two years before she had watched the Normandy die over Alchera and Shepard had died with it. With the passage of time the fiery pain of his loss had become a dull ache that promised to fade almost completely with time. When she had told Kasumi that she wasn't sure if she could manage to go through the same pain again it hadn't been an exaggeration. Now she realized that she had to take one final lesson from Shepard and use the pain. When all else failed, it would still be there to drive her.

"Shepard would still have been proud," Tali said, managing to get the entire sentence out without her voice cracking. A small step.

He smiled at her sadly.

"I'm sure he would have given me hell about how I'd be bored now without any rules to break."

"I think he knew you well enough to know that you'd always find new ones."

"That he did. Let's head to the Presidium," Garrus agreed and gestured towards the door. "There's a decent bar there and before we start trying to live up to Shepard's legacy I think we both could use a drink."

* * *

><p>"<em>Where the hell am I?" he asks.<em>

_From every direction he can hear music, an unseen orchestra._

"_We are within. The place where your song flows from."_

_Shepard looks around. Plain gray bulkheads and a small room, barely bigger than a closet. Memory washes over him. A tiny room on the Einstein, his mother's posting for four years, probably the longest he'd ever spent in a single place. Its decks were filled with memories both pleasant and painful. The tiny room had been his gift as a young teen. Space of his own, however small, was rare on a ship._

"_I don't understand."_

_To his right the air becomes hazy and a swirling mass of light manifests. From within he hears the same song, louder now, and he remembers. The Reapers. Indoctrination. Sour-yellow notes._

"_Yes," the queen says. "Now you see. Here is where your song lives and so to the dissonant notes of the dark-song destroyers. It is the center of your being, where all things past, present, and future remain."_

_He looks down and sees that he's wearing his old armor. Black and red, N7 logo emblazoned on his chest._

"_Why here, though?"_

"_This is not where you were hatched, but it is where your song began to change. You were no longer a gray note among the many. You became Sings-of-Endings."_

_Everything melts away as he watches and he suddenly is watching through the eyes of his much younger self running through corridors. Red lights flash over head, battle stations, and people are yelling. Soon they're looking out at the main hangar deck as shuttles come and go. His mother stares at him, grabbing his arm._

"_You shouldn't be here, John! You were supposed to stay in your quarters!"_

_Another shuttle makes a shaky landing only a few dozen meters away and the doors open, two marines jump out and begin screaming for a medic. He watches as others rush to help them and start pulling out civilians. Their clothes are stained in blood and many are barely conscious. Others look far less hurt but something in their eyes tells a different story. A woman flinches away from a marine's helping hand and cuts off a scream. Another man struggles against the soldiers. He screams for his family before a medic finally applies a sedative and he goes limp._

"_I.. I wanted to help. What happened? Why is everyone hurt?"_

_His mother frowns. "The batarians attacked Mindoir, John. Our men tried to save the colonists but we weren't fast enough. Good marines died and... most of the colonists were killed."_

"_Marines? What about dad?" he asks immediately._

"_He's fine. His unit is trying to help the survivors. Please, go back to your quarters... you don't need to see this. That's an order young man."_

_Shepard never questions his mother when he hears the steel in her voice, but it doesn't mean he always does as he's told. Hannah Shepard turns to help a young lieutenant and he slips away. He's almost fourteen now, he knows first aid and he can help. He knows he can. The soldiers look at him oddly, but there just aren't enough hands, so they don't ask his age._

_Memory flashes forward again, leaps and jumps of seconds, then minutes. No longer looking through his own eyes but observing as if from a distance. A marine with a chest wound lays on a stretcher, a medic is telling him to push down on the wound as hard as he can. Red blood seeps through his fingers and the marine mumbles incoherently. Begging for someone with a name he can't make out. The medic curses. The marine stops moving._

_Blood is still on his hands when he tries to help unload another shuttle. It __is__ all mechanical now, do what the nearest soldier says. Pressure here. __Carry__ this. Move that. The doors of the shuttle swing wide and panicked civilians practically fall out as marines try to maintain order. A little girl is sent sprawling and she begins to sob. He helps her to her feet only to have her tiny arms wrap around him in a vice like grip. She doesn't see the blood, doesn't seem to see anything. She just cries and asks for her father._

_An hour passes and his mother finds him there, sitting next to the shuttle. The girl is silent now, asleep, but he doesn't know what to do with her. In a wave everything that he's seen hits him and he fights back tears of his own as his month kneels next to him._

"_I told you to go back to your room, John... dammit," she says, but there's no anger in her voice__, just__ sadness. "You're too young. You should have gotten to be innocent longer."_

_She sits down next to him and wraps an arm around him, just as he's holding the girl from the shuttle. He still resists the urge to cry and does his best to ignore the blood staining his hands, but a few tears trickle down his face._

"_Why?"_

"_Why did the batarians attack? We don't know for sure," his mother says gently. "Maybe they were afraid because we're expanding so fast. They wanted to teach us a lesson. Or maybe __they're__ slavers and __murderers__."_

"_No. Why didn't someone stop them?"_

"_Because the colony wasn't well defended. And by the time we got here it was... too late."_

"_Won't we attack them back?"_

_The sigh he hears is a tired one. Hannah Shepard was always straightforward with her only son. She didn't shield him from the truth even if she clearly wishes that this one could have waited._

"_Probably so... but __it's__ a big galaxy. Filled with politics and agendas. Sometimes __it's__ hard to punish the monsters for the things they've done. They attack us, we attack them... the cycle keeps going. But that's not something you need to worry about, John. Why don't you bring that girl to the infirmary so we can get you both cleaned up?"_

_He shakes his head and finally looks up, meeting his mother's eyes._

"_One day I'll be strong enough. I'll stop the monsters before they can hurt anyone ever again."_

* * *

><p>A pair of drinks were placed on the bar in front of them. One in a glass, the other a sterile tube. For the entire trip to the Presidium, Tali had remained quiet, but her body language didn't convey the same defeated posture Garrus had seen before - so he'd let it go. Spirits knew they all had their own pain to deal with. Any other time he'd have just ordered a bottle of the brandy and forgot the next few hours of his life. That wasn't a refuge he could see solace in anymore, though. He had a duty.<p>

"On the house."

Garrus' head snapped up at the statement, both because he was always leery of free drinks and because the voice was familiar. The asari behind the bar definitely was one he'd seen before and a second later his tired mind made the connection.

"Matriarch Aethyta?"

"Aethyta?" Tali echoed, looking up herself now.

"Know any other matriarchs that tend bar?" the asari asked with a smile.

He managed a half smile. "Point taken. I'm glad to see you made it off Ilium before the Reapers attacked."

"Just barely. Made it here but nowhere else to go now," Aethyta said with a shrug.

"Did... Quin'Sala make it as well?" Tali asked hesitantly.

By way of answer the asari yelled at the other end of the bar. "Quiny!"

"What is it you old blue _bosh'tet_?" a voice demanded, clearly filtered through the vocabulator of an environment suit. "I've almost got this thing working again!"

"Stop disrespecting your elders and get out of the guts of that terminal!"

There were a few more curses that his translation program couldn't make sense of before a visored head popped up over the bar. Her disposition changed immediately upon seeing Tali and Garrus.

"It's you! Sorry for... what I said. That must have sounded very rude."

"Don't apologize now, girl. I'm just now getting you trained on how to properly give back talk," Aethyta admonished. "Takes all the impact out of it when you just up and apologize."

"I see you've been molding her in your image," Garrus stated dryly.

The matriarch shrugged.

"Girl has to learn sometime. You quarians are all so damn polite on account of getting kicked around. No one is going to respect a barkeep that can't tell them where to stick it."

Tali was clearly ignoring the back and forth, addressing Quin'Sala. "You didn't return to the Fleet when the call went out?"

"No. I know that the message said that all Pilgrimages were canceled and no gifts were needed to return to a ship but... Aethyta has been so kind to me and there was so much work to be done. I thought I could wait a few weeks at least," the other quarian explained. "And then... the Reapers came."

"It worked out for the best. I don't know where your people have been but the only reason we got a shuttle off Ilium was because of Quiny here hacked some rich bitch's private one," the matriarch added, then gave her two patrons a stern look. "Drink up. You both look like you need it."

"Thanks. It's... been a difficult few days."

As Garrus reached for his drink the asari woman produced a bottle from beneath the bar and poured herself a glass of something that was deep purple in color. The look on her face when she picked up the glass and raised it in his direction was far softer than he remembered from the previous encounter on Illium when she spoke.

"To the departed. As my father would say, all great warriors die, but the greatest live on through their actions."

The toast nearly made him drop his brandy, but he maintained his composure and lightly touched his glass against the asari's, watching Tali warily do the same. He considered asking what she was talking about but the weight of her gaze made it clear that somehow she knew. The turian was certain that the Council's instructions had stated that they wouldn't be making the announcement until later in the afternoon.

"How did you know?" Tali demanded heatedly.

"Because I told her."

He turned in his seat to see Liara standing behind them, hands clasped in front of her.

"Liara? Why..."

The younger asari flicked a glance to the matriarch before addressing him.

"Because Matriarch Aethyta is my... second-mother. My father in your terms. I've known for some time. In my position it was impossible not to, but I never made contact nor had any desire to. After what happened... I decided that even if I'd never known her, she at least had the right to know I was alive. In the end I told her what had happened rather than lie when she asked about Shepard. I don't think he would have wanted his death covered up."

"It won't be," Garrus promised. "The Council will be making a formal announcement in a few hours. No more lies."

No more lies other than the lies of omission that the newly minted Spectre had perpetuated by not mentioning Shepard's mental state or his tacit admission that he was at risk of falling under the Reaper's sway.

"I'm sorry, Liara," Tali apologized quietly, causing him to cast a sidelong glance at her.

"For what?"

"After everything that's happened I should have come to see you," the quarian said. "I know that you... you loved him too. The original crew, we all should stick together. We're the ones that have to make sure that... that..."

The information broker smiled but there was a hint of tears in her eyes as Tali trailed off. She reached out and placed a hand over the quarian's three digits.

"It's alright, Tali. I understand. I spent some time with Doctor Chakwas... we... remembered the good times."

Garrus bowed his head for a moment. The good times. He would give anything to have those times back, when it was just Shepard's ragtag crew hunting down a crazy Spectre. Geth and pirates were their greatest danger and the Reapers were only a vague, looming threat. The best times.

* * *

><p>"<em>I remember, but how is this going to help me?"<em>

_Hope-singer's voice is patient._

"_Your memory-song reminds you of who you were and who you are. The basis of your choices. It gives you strength."_

"_Now what?"_

"_You must face the darkness. We can no longer aid you. This song is your own, you must master it. Descend into darkness or climb to the light. That is your true choice, Sings-of-Endings."_

_Shepard is back in his old room, standing at the door. The queen's music fades away and leaves him alone. Silence reigns. Not even the barely noticeable hum of the engines or the breathy hiss of the air recyclers can be heard. He presses the door control._

_A wave of heat washes over him. The corridor outside is filled with smoke and sputtering fires as he steps out into it. Sparks shower down from shattered overhead lights. Only the flashing red emergency lights render the scene visible._

"_What in the hell is this?"_

"_I think this is what passes for your soul, human... a sad state."_

_At the end of the hall he can just make out the outline of a turian, but the voice is unmistakable._

"_Saren," he growls._

"_We both knew we'd meet again," the fallen Spectre says with a laugh. "You know where to find me when you're ready to end this charade, Shepard. It's just you now. All alone... I wonder if you've ever had what it takes."_

_Before he can charge forward Saren steps back into the haze and disappears. Even when he runs ahead to catch up he finds nothing, just more ruined corridors and smoke. He can hear an inhuman cry echo from somewhere else in the ship. Half scream, half roar._

_He tries to remember the deck plan of the carrier, its maze of numbered bulkheads and levels that only follow the scantest rules of logic in their layout. Shepard simply runs, pushing himself up stairs and down ruined halls. Sometimes behind him he hears another roar, other times he swears it's the sound of booted feet, but whenever he looks there's nothing._

_Another blind turn and Shepard nearly trips of his own feet. It should be a mess hall that he's moving through, but there's dirt and grass. Irregular stones jutting from the ground. The deckplating trembles beneath his feet. He knows that feeling. The way the ground almost seems to shift under him._

"_Fuck this... not this place," he hisses._

_A cry of pain catches his attention and he moves on instinct towards it before his breath catches in his throat._

"_Johnny..."_

_Laying against the wall is a young marine. Her armor is nothing more than melted polymer and metal but he doesn't need to see her badge to know her name. That shock of fiery red hair that sticks out from beneath her helmet says it all. He falls to his knees next to her, pulling the helmet off gently._

"_Ally?"_

"_There's my space rat," she gasps out. Her normally bright white teeth are stained crimson and he doesn't bother to move the hand that she clasps across her stomach._

"_I don't understand... why are you here? What is this?"_

"_Aw, come on, Johnny... you were... uhh... you were always smart. Sure you can figure it out."_

"_This isn't a memory. This never happened," he says firmly. "I saw... saw you. When the Maw came down... I saw you disappear. I couldn't even go to you..."_

_The woman's other hand comes up and grips his arm. "I know. How many times did you dream that same dream, huh, Johnny?"_

"_It doesn't matter."_

"_Sure it does," she counters, shaking her head. "They almost... flunked you on those exercises in basic... because you wouldn't, ah, leave anyone behind. Made the... sarge mad as hell when you did it... did it anyways."_

_An involuntary smile creeps to his face for a moment. "I carried you out of that base on my back. You bitched the entire way about how undignified it was."_

"_Still think you-" she pauses and coughs before continuing. "Think you did it to cop a feel. Started you on... career of rescuing damsels, though, huh? Saved that girl and her pretty purple veil. Saved little miss archaeologist... you've done a lot of saving. But all you ever remember are the ones you didn't."_

_He winces._

"_I couldn't save you... all I could do was run..."_

"_Do you think I would... would have blamed you, Johnny? All these... years?"_

_Shepard drops his head and shakes it slowly. "No, Ally. You were the one that always got mad and forgave everyone ten minutes later."_

"_That's right," she replies, shifting in place and trying to stifle a cry of pain. Blood pooled everywhere but he didn't notice._

"_You're telling me to let go."_

"_You already moved on. Rescued a damsel and she returned the favor. But I know you still... ah... blame yourself... blame yourself for everything. You can't do it alone, Johnny. That turian... he told you that you're alone... but you're not. We'll always be here..."_

_The light in the marine's eyes fades away and the hand in his goes limp. He reaches up to her neck and removes her tags, looking at them in the palm of his hand. Alannah McGrath. Private, First Class._

"_Time to get up off your knees, Commander."_

_Shepard looks up from his position on his knees into smiling face. Dark brown hair and tanned skin, eyes that had seen more than his years._

"_Alenko?"_

"_She's right, you know, you're never alone. We followed you knowing the risks because we had faith. We knew that no matter what happened you would make sure that it counted for something."_

"_It only counts for something if we can stop the Reapers, Kaidan," he says._

_The younger man gives another easy smile and extends his hand to pull Shepard up. "Then it sounds like to me the mission isn't over, sir."_

_He grips Kaidan's wrist tightly._

"_No, it's not."_

* * *

><p>Even as fresh as the wounds were, Tali had found it good to talk. Aethyta should have been a stranger; she had barely known them all for more than a few hours, but there was something about the way she spoke that made it feel natural to speak with her. Maybe it was centuries of wisdom learned as an asari matriarch. Or maybe it was simply just the knack of a plainly-spoken bartender.<p>

A few hours later they were sitting at one of the back tables of the small bar that Aethyta was apparently in charge of. More than a few stories had been exchanged, many detailing their exploits on the original Normandy. Aethyta seemed to be amused by it all while Quin'Sala listened with rapt attention.

Sometime while they were speaking Kasumi had appeared to report that Jack, Kahlee Sanders, and her students had been provided for by the Alliance embassy. How long she had actually been listening unseen Tali didn't know, but now she simply sat sipping at a drink that Aethyta had provided with the promise of a 'taste of home'. The artificial sun was beginning to set on the Presidium as the station began to shift gradually into its night cycle.

Silence had fallen when the announcement had come. The numerous vid screens that adorned the walls of the bar had all changed to the same news broadcast, overriding even the advertising screens. They all knew what it was but It had been a surprise to see the woman reporting was none other than Emily Wong.

"_Good evening. This is Emily Wong reporting for the Citadel News Service. I come to you this evening with important news regarding what has come to be called the Reaper War."_

All around Tali had seen people stop. The Citadel had been a bastion of normalcy in the face of the war, as yet untouched. The sudden news broadcast easily grabbed the attention of those passing by.

"_Just a few minutes ago we received information directly from the Citadel Council. It is with great sadness that I tell you that Commander John Shepard has been reported as killed in action. We have no details as to what has happened at this time, but Councilor Tevos said, quote, 'Commander Shepard died defending the lives and freedoms of all sentient species against the greatest threat that this Council or this galaxy has ever faced. His sacrifice will never be forgotten'."_

The quarian closed her eyes, unable to look at the screen. Even Wong seemed unable to deliver the news without emotion, her voice wavering slightly as she finished the quote. Tali felt a hand grip hers and opened her eyes once more to see Quin'Sala looking at her. She nodded her thanks as Wong continued.

"_Much has been said about Commander Shepard in the nearly four years since he was first made a Spectre. He has been called the Hero of the Citadel by many, derided by others following his return to the galactic scene less than a year ago for his supposed terrorist connections to Cerberus."_

She saw Garrus bristle at the mention of Cerberus, one of his talons digging into the polymer coating of the table top. The engineer understood the reaction. It had been the Council themselves that had questioned Shepard's loyalty and even when they had finally accepted that he wasn't an enemy they had done nothing to quash the rumors or insinuations. She blinked in surprise, though, when Kasumi rested a hand on his shoulder and he immediately relaxed his iron grip.

Something apparently told Quin'Sala that this was a private moment. The younger quarian shook her head when Tali gestured that she should stay, just dipping her head and slipping back towards the bar while the broadcast continued.

"_Most of my viewers don't know that I met Commander Shepard shortly after he became the first human Spectre. His actions saved lives and exposed corruption within the Citadel. To his detractors I say simply believe what you will, but the man I met believed in doing whatever was necessary to help those he had sworn to protect and serve. And to you, Commander, wherever you may be... I say thank you. This is Emily Wong with CNS, signing off."_

They sat in silence for long moments after the broadcast ended. They were an odd table... three members of the crew that had stopped Saren, a thief who had given up her life of crime to help save the galaxy, and an asari matriarch that had been alive long before the Commander's people had even dreamt of the stars. Conversation hummed around them. Tali could hear the voices, some shocked, some disbelieving. A few even sounded honestly saddened.

"If only they'd appreciated him when he was still here," Tali said bitterly.

Aethyta responded, her throaty voice gentle. "People rarely appreciate what they have until it's gone, honey. But I don't think the man cared what most people thought of him. I think it mattered what you all thought of him."

"She's right. Shepard told me once that he never set out to be a hero. He said he became a soldier because someone had to take a stand for what they believed in," Garrus said.

The turian raised his glass to the others at the table.

"To Shepard," he toasted, voice thick.

Five glasses clinked together.

"To Shepard."

* * *

><p>"<em>It took you long enough, Shepard... I was beginning to grow <em>_restless__."_

_The bridge is in little better condition than the rest of the ship. Only the glow of the pulsating star outside the viewport illuminates the room beyond the dull monochrome of the emergency lights. Saren stands in front of the scintillating star, his turian form a dark silhouette against the light._

"_I had to stop and meet some old friends along the way," he replies sardonically. "Sorry to keep you waiting."_

_Saren turns to face him. The visage isn't the same one that has haunted his dreams for so many months. This one is clean and unblemished. The turian looks down at him with a condescending smile._

"_Why do you continue on this path? I thought you finally understood that you cannot deny their will."_

"_I took the only option I thought I had left... but if there's another choice then I'll fight with everything I have for it. For the first time in months I was able to think without a voice in the back of my mind, whispering to me that I'm destined to fail. The Reapers aren't infallible. Sovereign failed. The Collectors fell. The __Alpha Relay__ was destroyed."_

_With menacing deliberation Saren steps down towards him, spreading his arms._

"_Yes, but it cost you. One man had to die for you to stop me. Three hundred thousand was the price for the alpha relay. Their blood is on your hands, human, or have you forgotten?"_

_Shepard shakes his head. "I haven't forgotten. I'm not an innocent, Saren. I never will be again... but I can live with that. If there really is anything that comes after all this then maybe I'll be judged then. What I won't accept is playing by your rules..."_

"_They aren't rules," the turian snarls. "They are inevitabilities!"_

"_Nothing is inevitable! Too many people have given everything. Everything! I'll be damned if I let them down. The Reapers want my life? I'm done making it easy for them! They'll have to fucking take it!"_

"_Gladly!" _

_Saren's roar is bestial as he throws himself forward and Shepard responds in kind. There is no grace or fluidity when they meet. The flesh impacting echoes through the otherwise deserted room. His shoulder slams into the turian's stomach in the same moment that Shepard feels a sharp elbow drive into his back. Somehow he notes that both of their armors have disappeared as if this is completely normal._

_He shoves Saren away. The fallen Spectre surges forward again and Shepard barely twists aside to prevent sharp talons from ripping him open. Instead two red lines appear on his chest. He responds in kind. A left hook catches the over-extended turian in the side of his head and sends him reeling back. His opponent shakes his head rapidly._

"_Is that the best you can do, ape? Pathetic."_

_Time seems to blur again. Claws and fists, brutal kicks all meld together into an incoherent fury. A punch knocks the wind out of him, his knee does the same to Saren. Another kick and he feels ribs crack in his side. His jab connects square with the turian's jaw. Saren tries to dig his talons into the Spectre's arms. Shepard drives his head forward hard enough that the crack is audible even to his own ears and both men stagger backwards._

_Shepard spits a mouthful of blood on the floor, his chest heaving. Blue drips from the other man's mouth and one of his eye sockets._

"_You're supposed to be all my fears... all the Reapers power... are you getting tired, Saren? What happened to that limitless power?"_

_The blow hammers into his cheek like an aircar, Saren doesn't even bother with his claws, just seeming intent on hitting him as hard as possible. Shepard gives as good as he takes though, responding with a wild haymaker of his own. The fallen Spectre's head snaps back and he falls back against the nearby console, chest heaving._

"_You can't... can't win..." Saren hisses._

"_Watch me."_

_An overhand blow almost drives the turian to his knees. Saren's counter drives the wind from his chest once more. Neither even tries to block any more. Just trading blows, one after another. With a final surge of energy Shepard throws all his weight forward and drives his fist into the turian's face hard enough to knock him to the ground._

_He stands over the fallen man. Every breath he takes is like fire in his chest. Blood covers his knuckles, his own red and Saren's blue. The corrupted Spectre looks up with glassy eyes and pushes himself backwards, finally staggering to his feet. He waves unsteadily._

"_How?" Saren rasps, blood covering his chin. "Tell me how! I tried, Shepard! I fought with everything I had! All my anger, all my hate!"_

"_Because I remembered that I had something worth fighting for," Shepard says. "Not just hate. Love. Sacrifice. Friends. People that had faith in me even when I didn't. All you did was try to save yourself."_

_Saren coughs and wipes a hand across his mouth, a trail of blood marring his gray hide. His hand slips behind him and a pistol is suddenly in his three fingered grip. In one smooth motion the turian snaps it up to point straight at him._

"_It wasn't just for me. I thought I could save the galaxy."_

_Shepard pauses. Trying to calculate how fast he could move, cover the few feet between them. His muscles tense and he sneers at the fallen Spectre._

"_You can't save something that you don't have a stake in. All you ever saw was __your__ own hate. But it's over now. Do it... but I hope whatever is left of you goes back to the Reapers and tell them that I never stopped fighting. Show them that one person, one human can defy them."_

_The turian's breathing slows slightly as he recovers, though the gun wavers in his shaky grip. Shepard locks gazes with the avatar of everything that he's stood against for so long. Something flashes there, a spark. A hint of recognition._

_Saren's mandibles curl slightly and he gives a short, wet laugh._

"_Maybe one human can."_

_Shepard doesn't give the turian the satisfaction of flinching or closing his eyes. He simply waits for the shot to come._

"_Goodbye, Shepard."_

_Saren turns the gun upwards, places it under his own chin, and pulls the trigger._

* * *

><p>Darkness had fallen on the Presidium when they finally left the bar. Liara decided to remain behind and catch up with her long estranged 'father', while Garrus returned to the ship with Tali and Kasumi in tow. They had barely made it up the stairs to the main corridor when a familiar face appeared in the corner of Garrus' vision, stepping out of the shadows of one of the many alcoves that lined the path. He stopped immediately and his hand twitched towards the gun at his hip. Long dark hair, intelligent eyes.<p>

"Miranda?"

"You didn't draw your weapon... I'm glad I earned at least that much in my time aboard the Normandy," the operative said as she entered full view.

"You earned more than that," Garrus replied. "But right now... it's hard to trust anyone."

Tali stepped forward. "What are you doing here, Miranda? I thought the last we heard Cerberus was searching for you?"

"They are. And the Citadel is the last place I should be... but this couldn't wait. After I heard about the Commander... I knew the only other people I could trust would be the rest of the crew."

"What are you talking about?" Kasumi asked.

Lawson shook her head. The revealing outfit that she'd favored during the mission to stop the Collectors had been replaced with much more practical, and less noticeable, attire. Garrus couldn't help but note the slightly harried look in her eyes or the fact that she looked a little thinner than before. Miranda had always been in control of almost every situation. Clearly the loss of that control didn't suit her.

"We shouldn't talk here. Back on the Normandy or somewhere else private."

"Look, if it's important enough to come to the Citadel... just spit it out, Lawson," Garrus said. "If Cerberus has bugged every corridor on the Citadel, that would be impressive, even for them."

She frowned, clearly unhappy with the idea, but nodded at last.

"My old contacts have tried to keep me informed, keep me ahead of anyone the Illusive Man sent after me... but two days ago I got a single databurst and then every single contact I had went silent."

"I don't like the sound of that. At all," Kasumi said.

"You shouldn't. The databurst was encrypted information about something called Operation Keystone... only parts of the data made it through," Miranda agreed.

"How bad are we talking here?" Garrus demanded.

Miranda sighed and met his gaze.

"Very bad. He's not hiding anymore, Garrus. Keystone is the Illusive Man's plan to seize control of the Citadel."

* * *

><p><strong><em>So, this chapter is a little later than I planned... but not for nothing! Big news!<em>**

**_Razor's Edge now has an official 'cover' thanks to the talents of amxdude. You can check out his amazing work in their full glory by visiting his personal page and deviant art pages at:_**

**_www . markartwork . com_**

**_and  
><em>**

**_animemagix . deviantart . com_**

_**But like a Billy Mays special... that's not all! One of my readers (the super helpful Bahroo) has earned my eternal gratitude by doing a full edit of ALL of Razor's Edge and Dark Witness. As we speak I'm updating all of the chapters of the previous works with new, edited versions. I even threw in a few tweaks here and there! It won't be all at once but expect by Friday for both stories to be completely updated.**_

**_My thanks to both of these guys for putting in a lot of work! And as always a thanks to my beta readers for keeping Requiem from needing to be edited after the fact ;)  
><em>**


	20. Chapter 19: Rise

Chapter 19: Rise

"Why the hell would the Illusive Man want the Citadel?"

"I don't know," Miranda replied in evident frustration. "If I did I would tell you! What I do know is that everything in that file related to securing this station."

Kasumi leaned against the wall, watching the operative from beneath her hood.

"Could it just be symbolic? Some kind of power play?" she asked.

Miranda shook her head. "The Illusive Man doesn't do symbolism. Everything he does is to achieve a desired result. There's always an endgame: a plan, a pay off. I've never met anyone as calculating and manipulative."

"You mean _your boss_?" Tali commented dryly.

It hadn't been hard to tell from the moment Kasumi came aboard that Tali wasn't fond of Miranda Lawson. Once she had heard about Cerberus' previous dealings with the quarians it made more sense and a few more pieces had fallen into place once the thief picked up her friend's feelings toward Shepard. Miranda had literally been engineered to be perfect from her amazingly sharp mind down to her hip to waist ratio. To an insecure quarian, she was everything that a man like Shepard should want - even though Kasumi herself had never noticed Miranda actually go after the man.

Over the course of their mission some of the chill had thawed, both from Miranda's ice queen demeanor and Tali's overt dislike. Some of that animosity clearly still lingered, though, from the sharpness of the engineer's tone. Whatever remained being likely amplified by Shepard's loss.

"_Former_ boss. After Shepard destroyed the Collector base, I made it clear where I stood if it came to making a choice between them."

"I'm sure you did."

"I don't think Miranda would have shown up on the Citadel if there wasn't a real threat," Kasumi interjected before anything could escalate. "This is a great place to disappear once you're here but it's almost impossible to come and go unnoticed. As soon as Miranda came aboard it would have told Cerberus where she was. Pretty brazen for someone used to being covert."

Tali nodded curtly and Miranda's look said that the thief's train of thought had been correct. Getting onto the Citadel when it was already on a heightened state of security wouldn't have been easy and if she'd been in a hurry there wouldn't have been time for an elaborate plan to do so quietly. Miranda had effectively burned any cover she'd had by showing up with the information she possessed.

"I don't care if it's late! Get Sparatus on the line! If you missed the credentials: I'm a spirits-be-damned Spectre now. Don't give me the "not available" crap!" Garrus growled.

He hadn't been paying attention to the back and forth as soon as Miranda had answered his question, instead speaking into his comm with his back turned. The newly minted Spectre had done a very good job of sounding calm and quiet until that final outburst. She watched him jab one talon at his omni-tool to terminate the link. Kasumi spared another glance at the other two women before moving next to him.

"Don't tell me they're ignoring you. Even for the Council, that would be a pretty short memory to have forgotten making you a Spectre a few hours ago," she said.

"No, but their assortment of secretaries and sycophants didn't get the memo apparently. All I got was 'the Councilor is unavailable'."

The thief smirked. "You didn't try your roguish charisma on them? I always figured Sparatus for the type to have some airheaded turian female for an assistant. Or whatever you call the turian equivalent of a ditz."

"Apparently not all women like scars," Garrus replied drolly, giving her a sidelong glance.

Her usual immediate comeback stalled. Six months ago that comment would have given her an easy opening to point out how he might have more success if he spent less time trying to eat rockets. After their conversation in the battery, though, something else lingered there; almost as if it was a question. Normally that wouldn't have been a problem, if not for the fact that Kasumi wasn't actually sure of her answer.

Miranda's voice from behind them saved her from the sudden silence.

"If the Council isn't available then we need to contact C-Sec. Half of the information I saw was detailing various ways of getting contraband past customs, everything from scan-protected containers to bribery. Not to mention Cerberus loyalists already working for C-Sec."

"That was my next call."

The turian turned back to the others and activated his omni-tool again, this time keying in another contact. There were two long chimes as it waited for a connection... followed by a very unhappy sounding man answering his comm.

"This better be good, Vakarian, I was looking for to a quiet night of actually sleeping for an entire four hours."

Garrus shook his head.

"Not tonight, Bailey. We've got a situation. Meet at C-Sec headquarters as soon as you can. And don't leave your gun at home."

That apparently got the human's attention, his brow furrowing on the small screen at Garrus' wrist.

"Never have. And sounds like tonight isn't the time to start. I'll be there in fifteen."

* * *

><p>Shepard groaned in pain, feeling blindly around him and finding only hard stone. It was the same hard surface that was pressed against his face where he lay. With what felt like a titanic effort he pushed himself off the ground and onto his knees. His eyes blinked open.<p>

The cave around him wasn't the same as the one he remembered. It was almost completely dark with only a faint glimmer above providing him with illumination. He craned his neck back and looked up at the tiny sliver of light, trying to focus on it. For a moment he thought it was some kind of hallucination until the pieces fell into place. It was an opening to the surface, one of the thousands of crevices that riddled the world's surface.

"Hope-Singer?" he asked, voice cracking.

Silence.

And then a brief note of music. Not speaking into his mind, but a memory conjured up when he thought of the rachni queen. He remembered the queen moving him, carrying him easily with a pair of her large appendages, her song in his mind as he drifted on the edge of consciousness.

_If you have the strength to fight the the dark-song destroyer's hold on your mind then you will awaken, but if their power is too great then you will slip into the final darkness, the ending of songs. Even if you drive their discordant notes from your melody__, __the battle is not yet over. That is the lesson we have learned from the songs of our ancestors._

As if from a distance, in his mind's eye he watched the queen set his unconscious form gently upon the ground.

_To defy the sour yellow notes you must not allow them purchase in your song. You must confront the false notes they sing in yourself. Only by showing the dark-song destroyers that your strength will not falter can you deny them. You must leave this place by your own hand, no other, or it will forever taint your song._

The memory faded and he looked up once more, a final word echoing with vibrant color and music in his thoughts.

_Rise._

* * *

><p>Bailey wasn't wearing a crisp uniform but he looked awake enough with a mug of coffee in one hand, datapad in the other. The expression on his face was souring further with every passing moment.<p>

"If I wasn't looking at it I'd have thought you were crazy. I'd also like to thank you for bringing a wanted criminal into my office," the C-Sec agent said dryly. "Nothing like making me break a dozen regulations just by not arresting her immediately to really get in my good graces."

"Let's be honest, Bailey, you were never all that good with regulations. Nor was I, for that matter," Garrus pointed out.

The human chuckled. "I'll give you that. This still seems more like a conspiracy theory than a real threat, though. This is the frakking Citadel. You can't just walk in with a few goons and take over the place! I've got a couple hundred thousand C-Sec officers on the payroll."

"Half of which are likely not even authorized to carry a weapon. Secretaries, accountants, any number of administrative positions are all included in that total. How many agents do you actually have that are combat trained?" Miranda asked.

Garrus glanced at the dark-haired woman. It was all the truth. On paper, C-Sec employed nearly a quarter of a million people. A much smaller amount of those were actual officers and detectives who carried guns regularly and were expected to do anything more than keep the barest competency.

"Eighty four thousand. That includes all the beat cops, detectives, and SRTs," Bailey admitted.

Tali cocked her head. "What is an... SRT?"

"Special Response Teams," Kasumi supplied. "Military grade weaponry, better training."

"And if I recall correctly from my C-Sec days the ratio was one in ten for SRT certification," the turian said.

"You were certified I take it?"

He snorted. "Of course."

The datapad clattered on the desk and Bailey rubbed his eyes as he spoke.

"The numbers were increased but its still only one in five. Which means we've got a little over fifteen thousand combat trained individuals. That's still a damn lot."

"I'd agree with you, but the data I have shows that more than a thousand contraband weapons were smuggled past customs in the past month," Miranda stated, crossing her arms. "I don't know how the Illusive Man plans to pull it off, my contact was only able to get me what you have there. But he wouldn't even make the attempt if he wasn't certain it could succeed."

The recently promoted human shook his head.

"I'm a commander, not the damned Executor. I can't just put all of C-Sec on alert. It could panic people if C-Sec starts gearing up for war... especially after the news about Shepard," Bailey said with a grimace before offering Garrus a nod. "Damn shame. He was a good man."

"Yes, he was," Garrus agreed.

He could see Tali's head dip, the silver eyes behind her visor narrowing to barely visible slits. Kasumi's hand brushed the quarian's arm. There was a small shift, the barest nod of acknowledgement. It wasn't lost on Bailey, clearly he still had the eyes of a cop despite being out of the field. Garrus could see the glimmer of understanding in the man's eyes.

"I'll do what I can. Get my guys looking for any of these stashes, start watching customs more carefully," Bailey promised. "The ones that I know I can trust... I'll give them the heads up."

"This information didn't come to me because this attack is a possibility," Miranda said sharply.

"Look, lady, I'm telling you-"

Bailey never got to finish his sentence. There wasn't even time for Garrus to yell a warning when the flash came. A blast of fire and force shattered the windows of the C-Sec agent's office, sending everyone tumbling to the floor. His ears rang and the acrid scent of smoke overpowered everything but he quickly shook it off, yelling for the others.

"Report! Anyone hit?"

"Fine. No breaches..." Tali replied unsteadily.

To his left Miranda was helping Bailey to his feet. His gaze flicked from corner to corner when he didn't get an immediate response from their other teammate. The turian's mind immediately went back to a few seconds before, trying to remember where she was standing exactly, if he'd seen her get hit. His talons scraped the floor in agitation.

"Kasumi? Talk to me!"

"Here!" the woman coughed, appearing a few feet away on the ground as the field around her blinked out. "Ah... I activated the... stealth net on reflex."

"Miranda, Tali, cover the door," he ordered. "Bailey, get on the comm and alert everyone! It looks like Cerberus isn't waiting for us to investigate!"

Garrus pushed himself into a crouch and looked over the edge of Bailey's desk. There didn't appear to be anything to see, just smoke and smoldering fires. He could only assume it had been a planted bomb. Explosives had never been his speciality, Shepard had been the one with the demolitions training. The smart ass human had been offering to teach him the 'fine art of exploding things' ever since their time on the SR-1.

He pushed the memory away. There was too much to do to regret the past now, instead he kept himself low and crossed the room to Kasumi's side, kneeling in the debris that littered Bailey's office. Almost gingerly he touched her shoulder and helped her sit up against the wall. His gaze flicked down and now he caught a new scent that was strong enough to overpower the smoke, the metallic tang in his nose told him that she was hurt before his eyes confirmed it when he saw Kasumi's fingers stained with crimson. Hours of C-Sec first responder training took over, the same skills that had served him well on Omega where there were no hospitals to call for help.

"Where are you hit?"

Garrus yanked a medigel packet from the compartment on his thigh and pulled her hands away. The blood on the thief's hands conjured another memory that was nearly strong enough to give him pause: a hand on one of his old teammates' chest, blood welling between his talons as he tried to stop the flow. Butler had been gone within moments. He clamped down immediately and shoved the thought down into the same little hole where all his other doubts and fears clamored for attention. This wasn't Omega. He wasn't going to lose one of Shepard's team... his team now.

"A small piece of glass tore through my body suit. It's not bad," she responded finally, pushing his hands away. "Ballistic cloth slowed it down."

Garrus shook his head and grasped her wrist firmly. Kasumi's head came up enough to meet his eyes. Whatever she saw there was enough to get her to pause and give him a nod.

"Stay still," he ordered.

Lifting away the torn fabric he saw a shard of glass half the length of his talon imbedded in her skin. More blood dripped from around the irregular piece of shrapnel. He didn't stop to think how when he saw red blood instead of turian blue it never struck him as strange anymore.

"I'm going to have to remove it before I apply the medigel."

"Been hurt before, Garebear. Just do your thing," Kasumi said and gave him a smile, but he could see the way her lips were pressed together, hear the strain in her voice.

He grunted and very carefully gripped the edge of the fragment with his talons.

"You promised never to call me that again."

"Figured you'd... let me get... ah... away with it since I'm bleeding."

"Bleeding all over me is supposed to make me more forgiving?"

Another flash of a smirk, drawn tight.

"Worth a shot, always kind of thought you were - _Itai_!"

He quickly yanked the glass free in the moment that Kasumi looked up at him in the hopes the momentary distraction would make it easier. A fresh gush of blood emerged from the wound but Garrus was already smearing it heavily with medigel. His mandibles drew tight against his face. It had been deeper than he'd realized. It was no surprise that he'd seen the pain in her face.

"Don't move... that's not just a scrape. The medigel should stop the bleeding but not if you move around so it can't seal," the turian growled. "Fucking Cerberus. I should have known they wouldn't waste any time."

"I'm not going to bleed out, Garrus."

"You're damn right you're not."

In that moment he was absolutely certain of it. The idea of the small human thief bleeding out on the floor from some coward's bomb blast hit him as hard as the loss of his friend just days before. He wouldn't, couldn't, let it happen.

"I meant that seriously," the thief said, the smile on her face looking far less forced now as she glanced down. "The bleeding has stopped."

Garrus followed her gaze and sheepishly pulled his hand away where he'd had it pressed against her stomach. Turians didn't have a particularly thick hide but human skin always seemed so damn fragile to him, the fact that his talons were stained red up to the second knuckle only served to drive that point home.

"Sorry. Just stay down. That's an order."

"Taking orders was never my strong suite. Sneaking, smart remarks... those I'm good at."

He growled.

"Damn it all, Kasumi, I'm not joking right now!"

The outburst earned him another odd look but also another surprising nod of compliance.

"Stay," Garrus repeated, which earned him a familiar rude gesture from the thief.

He moved to where Bailey and Miranda stood. The operative was holding a submachine gun and watching the smoke filled hallway. Alarms screamed in the halls and the fire suppression systems were operating sporadically. It didn't help to think of how many agents had been closer to the blast than they had been.

"Do you have anything, Bailey?" the turian asked.

"A damn mess is what I have. Comms are barely working, there's some kind of virus in the system. The backup emergency channels are hard locked so they still work but every damn body in the force is trying to use them at once. Sounds like there were at least a dozen more bombs."

Miranda frowned. "Cause panic, disrupt communications, and try to remove strong leadership. All perfect scenarios to help secure an otherwise well defended position."

"How the hell did Cerberus get access to the main communications grid?" Bailey asked. "The Citadel mainframes are the most secure systems in the damn galaxy."

"The Illusive Man practically wrote half of EDI's code himself. That's what I've been trying to tell you... you have no idea what he's capable of," the operative said grimly. "Any agents he has already on the Citadel will be moving. If we're going to have a chance we need to re-establish communications."

He looked past the pair of humans, mind working. Without a way to coordinate a defense it didn't matter how many C-Sec agents knew how to use a gun. The only way to establish reliable comms was to coordinate with something that Cerberus couldn't compromise.

"Agreed," Garrus said after a moment. "EDI and Legion might be our only way to get past whatever Cerberus has done to the computer systems."

"Even if they've made another AI, the geth collective that Legion is connected to should be more than enough to counter it," Tali added from behind him.

For his part Bailey was looking between them, shaking his head.

"Great plan, kids. Now how did you plan to pull that off? Because I can't call the precinct one level down much less a ship at the docks."

Garrus pointed at Miranda.

"You and Bailey see if you can grab any survivors and hit the armory. If Cerberus has troops already on the Citadel this could get ugly. We'll hold position here with Kasumi and try to see if we can get into the network from Bailey's terminal."

The look that the C-Sec commander gave the sparking and cracked terminal wasn't hopeful but he nodded, wiped away some of the soot on his face, and stepped over to his desk. Bailey opened one of the draws and pulled out a bulky pistol, checked the thermal clip, and thumbed off the safety.

"Didn't realize C-Sec was issuing Carnifexes these days," the turian stated.

Bailey's response was equally dry. "They don't, but then the C-Sec handbook doesn't mention invasions either. You'd think after Saren they would have updated that."

"Caught up in committee."

A snorted laugh came from Bailey. "Something like that."

The two humans slipped out the door a moment later, weapons at the ready. They hadn't seen anyone yet, survivor or enemy, but it was a safe bet that Cerberus would follow up their first attack with minimal delay.

"How is Kasumi?" Tali asked after they'd gone.

He glanced over his shoulder. "The shrapnel was deeper than I thought but the medigel should seal the wound enough that she can move without opening it up again. It's going to be rough on her if we have to run, though."

"The explosion didn't make me deaf, you know... I can hear you two over there," the thief interjected sourly.

Garrus ignored her and gestured towards Bailey's terminal.

"See if you can get anything out of that. I'll take care of our patient."

"I'll deploy the drone to keep an eye out," Tali agreed. "Just don't let her do anything stupid. Humans... humans are kind of stubborn sometimes."

"I can still hear you."

He reached out and gave Tali's shoulder a squeeze. Even with the visor he could almost see the memory that had crossed the quarian's eyes, Shepard barely keeping himself upright after taking a hit, refusing to sit down like a rational person would. He didn't give voice to it, though, it wasn't the time. Instead he turned back towards Kasumi and produced another medigel packet that he shook in her direction.

"I know you can hear us. Eavesdropping is your specialty after all, isn't it?"

* * *

><p>Shepard's arms burned with every new hand hold that he found to pull himself higher. The canyon's irregular walls were deceptive, he'd been climbing for an hour but he couldn't tell that he was any closer to the top. So he didn't focus on it. He just looked for the next crack or small ledge in dim light. One step at a time.<p>

Without the queen's song in his head, the caverns were eerily silent. The sound of his own heavy breathing was loud in his ears, only broken up by the occasional tumble of stone when a piece of rock broke free and went tumbling down into the abyss below. The solitude let the events of the past months play out in his head on a loop.

_Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong._

His hand almost slipped but the Spectre drove his foot against the wall and pushed up, grabbing another jutting stone tightly.

_The losses are staggering, Commander. A million dead in the first day. Four by the end of the week. It's a slow extinction__,__ all things considered, but an inevitable one._

For a second he could almost hear Hackett's gravelly voice echoing across the stones.

_I'm sure I am not the first father to have lost a son to this war, nor will I be the last._

Shepard yanked himself over the next ledge with a growl of anger. So many dead already. Lives lost in a war for simple survival. Three years, countless nightmares and painful visions later and he still didn't even know why this cycle repeated itself over and over again. What purpose did the Reaper's harvest serve?

_We are eternal. The pinnacle of evolution and existence. Before us you are nothing. Your extinction is inevitable. We are the end of everything._

Leaning his head against the cool stone he paused. Even now the dead Reaper's words reverberated in his mind. They carried weight and substance, almost as if he could reach out and touch them. He gritted his teeth, reaching for the next hand hold.

_We can't stop it! Not forever! You saw the visions. You saw what happened to the protheans. The Reapers are too powerful!_

Saren's words. Some of the last he ever uttered as a living being, struggling to fight Sovereign's control over his mind. They cried out to him like a plea. The voice in the back of his mind that demanded that he see reason.

_Only by showing the dark-song destroyers that your strength will not falter can you deny them._

He scowled and shook his head, finally understanding the rachni's words. The Reapers' ability to warp the mind found root in the doubts and fears that lived in the psyche of every man, woman, and child. To purge him of that influence would have been to purge what made him human, to make him like the workers and soldiers of rachni, one mind among the whole without fear or doubt. Hope-Singer's song couldn't banish the twisted call of the Reapers, but it let him see it for what it was.

"Not this time," Shepard said to the empty cavern as he climbed.

The muscles of his arm spasmed, trying to cramp. The Spectre forced himself to keep moving, never losing the momentum, to constant drive to reach just a little farther.

"You always knew that it was wrong. But you let them lead you down that path. But you fought it in the end. Even with those implants in you... you fought. Their control isn't absolute."

_Do you really think you can defeat them?_

Even now he wasn't sure if he heard the whisper or imagined it. The flanged tone was familiar but weak, like someone that barely had to breath with which to speak. Shepard's movements had become mechanical and rote, the climb itself feeling surreal. But his response was spoken with conviction that he hadn't felt in months.

"Yes."

* * *

><p>"Vakarian-Spectre, do you copy our transmission?"<p>

"Legion? I've never been so glad to hear a geth talking to me!" Garrus exclaimed as he snapped off a shot from his rifle before dropping back into cover..

The bomb that had nearly killed them all had indeed been meant to cripple C-Sec's leadership. It appeared that they had been spared due to a premature detonation. The rest of the building hadn't been so lucky. Most of the floor they'd been on had been devastated by the blast and numerous similar devices had left the rest of the Presidium precinct a ruin. Bailey and Miranda had located a dozen able bodied survivors and an equal number that were wounded but alive.

Just as Garrus had expected it didn't take Cerberus long to capitalize on their attacks. They had barely gotten the survivors organized when men wearing white and gold armor had appeared with the clear intent of 'cleaning up' the sight of the bomb blast. Much to their obvious surprise, the remaining C-Sec agents weren't going quietly. Especially when they had back up from members of the Normandy crew. The presence of Garrus and the others provided a boost, both in lethality and morale.

"We have established rudimentary communication utilizing the emergency communications channels," the synthetic informed him. "EDI is attempting to counteract Cerberus cyber-warfare runtimes within the Citadel systems, unfortunately this occupies all available processing power."

"What does that mean for our communications, Legion?"

The machine sounded almost apologetic. "We cannot re-establish full communications. This platform can act as a hub, however, to relay communications to various locations aboard the Citadel. Coordination will be inefficient but possible."

"Understood. What about the rest of crew?"

"Patching you through now to Javik-Prothean."

"Now is not the time for conversation, machine!"

Garrus recognized the odd accent immediately.

"Javik! This is Garrus, Legion is acting as a relay link for our comms," he said. "What's your status?"

There was a short, mirthless laugh.

"I have taken control of the docking area around the Normandy. These foolish offshoots of Shepard's kind are attempting to storm the vessel but to little effect. The human Vega is the only other member of the ground team assisting but the regular crew are surprisingly... spirited in their defense of the vessel. Many of them are blooded for the first time today, I believe, but they do their ancestors proud. Our position is secure, but I cannot abandon it without losing control of the Normandy."

"That ship is their home now, just like the rest of us. They won't let you down. Have you had any contact from Liara?"

"No. The asari had not returned to the ship by the time the attack began," Javik replied.

The turian scanned around the corner of his cover but saw no movement. Cerberus' initial push had been taken apart quickly by the united front they'd presented and he didn't expect an immediate retaliation.

"Clear," Miranda called out from a few meters away.

"Same here," Bailey agreed, standing. "Looks like they bit off more than they could chew."

He shook his head and left the safety of cover to kneel next to the closest of the fallen man. The armor he wore was riddled with damage but Garrus was able to pop the face plate free with minimal effort. Beneath was the face of a middle aged human man.

"This doesn't make any sense. The armor is all stock, just painted to match Cerberus colors. I don't know about the rest of them but this one doesn't have any of the cybernetics that Shepard's report mentioned from the run in on Mars."

"Fodder meant to create additional chaos. The casualties would be... high, even with C-Sec's communications down, but the Illusive Man would consider it just one more 'acceptable loss'," Miranda suggested.

"So what, these are his 'true believers'?"

Bailey took the time to examine another and frowned.

"Or maybe just the biggest bigots he could round up. I recognize this one. We picked him up more than once for causing disturbances in the Commons. Liked to preach to all the inter-species couples he saw, tell them how they were abominations, unclean... that sort of crap."

"What's the point, though?" Garrus hissed in frustration. "He had to know this wouldn't be enough to gain control of the Citadel. Not even part of it."

His comm lit up once more and this time it was EDI's voice that greeted him.

"I think I have the answer to that question, Garrus. Transmitting visual data now."

The display changed to what he could only assume was one of the Normandy's external cameras. He was about to open his mouth to ask what the AI was talking about when he saw them. Angular shapes emerging from the purple-blue haze of the nebula that surrounded the Citadel. The split prows and stunted wings were easily recognizable as human warships, nearly a dozen cruisers from the look of it, but they weren't the white and blue of the Systems Alliance. Each was streaked with black and gold, boldly emblazoned with Cerberus crest.

"Spirits... that shouldn't be possible! Where is the damned fleet?"

"Unknown. The majority of my processing power is dedicated to attempting to counter Cerberus viral agents. It appears that the Illusive Man has created multiple new AIs for just this purpose. What information I can access, however, shows records of an order being sent from the Council offices instructing the fleet to change position due to an imminent Reaper threat."

"Even if they moved them out of position to make it through the relay, what's to stop them from just coming back when they realize it's a trick? That is a lot of firepower but the Citadel fleet consists of nearly two dozen cruisers, not to mention the Destiny Ascension," Bailey said from his position at the turian's elbow. "They should be able to tear these bastards to pieces."

The image changed once more to a wireframe hologram of the Citadel and surrounding space, glowing lines indicating the paths of each ship.

"The Cerberus vessels are on a direct course for the Citadel. No action has been taken to close the Citadel. This would indicate that such an action has been disabled somehow or deliberately not activated," the AI explained. "Following the projected course would place the ships within the Citadel's arms."

"No one ever asked me to steal a book on naval combat, EDI. What're you getting at?" Kasumi interjected.

He knew he was scowling when he glanced at the thief but Garrus didn't care. When the first Cerberus attack had come he had told her to stay down and keep an eye on the wounded. Her present state of leaning against the wall with a submachine gun in one hand with the other pressed against her side made it clear that she'd listen just long enough for him to leave the room.

"A mass accelerator round doesn't stop until it hits something," Garrus replied before the AI could. "If a ship like the Destiny Ascension fires its main gun and misses then it'll hit the station. It would be the Battle of the Citadel all over again. Even if every ship in the fleet only missed a single shot it could turn half the Citadel into a smoking ruin."

Kasumi blinked. "That's..."

"Effective. If he can't have it no one can," Tali said, her voice devoid of emotion. "The fleet will have to choose between possibly killing thousands or letting Cerberus occupy the station."

His eyes flicked over to the engineer. The statement was cold, but it was correct. It just wasn't something he'd ever expected to hear from her. No, it sounded far more like something Miranda would have said and that made his scowl deepen further.

"How long until they're in position, EDI?" he asked.

"The cruisers will be in range within ten minutes. I have already detected numerous shuttle launches."

Garrus sighed. "You need to go. The nebula should provide cover until you can engage the stealth systems."

"As soon as I release the docking mechanisms, communications will be cut off. I cannot interface with the Citadel systems remotely to counteract the electronic warfare units used by Cerberus," the AI countered. "I... cannot abandon by crew. It is against my programming."

"That was wasn't a suggestion, EDI. Javik and Vega can't hold the ship against a full assault. Tell our prothean to make his way to the Presidium Commons along with Vega and Legion. You and Joker need to link up with the Citadel fleet and give them the information we have."

There was a full second of silence.

"Understood, relaying orders now. I am sorry, Garrus."

He chuckled. "Don't be, you're following orders. Tell Joker that he's in charge but not to get too comfortable. Once we kick Cerberus off this station I'll be back."

"I will. Initiating undocking procedures. Terminating communications."

"The Commons?" Bailey asked as soon as his omni-tool went dark.

"This place is falling apart and its bound to be their first target. The Commons weren't designed with a siege in mind but they'll have to do," Garrus said, gesturing to the rubble and blackened walls around them. "Plenty of areas there to channel their advances into tight firing lanes and limited access. The only way they can drop troops is if they do it directly from a shuttle and that leaves them exposed."

"Most people just like it for the view," the C-Sec officer said sardonically.

The turian shrugged and gave Bailey a tired smirk.

"Spend enough time fighting and eventually you see everything as a battlefield."

* * *

><p>"Garrus is one serious badass, but I'm not sure about this. The Normandy goes and we're stuck on this damn station," Vega groused. "It feels too much like giving up. First Shepard... now this."<p>

The prothean rolled all four of his eyes. Javik could practically taste the emotions that came off the brash young soldier in waves. Anger and confidence in abundance, but beneath there was fear. Shame. He had seen brief flashes of the man's memory when he had first greeted him. The soft, misguided people of this cycle might would likely have told Vega that the loss of his unit was not his fault. Javik, however, saw the memory as just another motivator. A warrior would fight twice as hard to erase the stains of a past failure. He knew that all too well.

"Do not concern yourself with the wisdom of his orders, merely carry them out."

"Just saying..."

"Yes, you speak constantly," Javik stated dryly and lifted the mate to the particle rifle that was already on his back, shoving it into the marine's arms. "Take this."

Vega looked down at the advanced alien weapon in his hands and then back to Javik.

"Thanks, I-"

"Do not thank me, human. The warrior that earned the right to wield it is dead. Shepard understood the reality of this war in a way the rest of your species does not. But I will serve you well if we are forced to operate with limited supplies."

"Javik-Prothean is correct. Advanced particle weaponry will provide a distinct advantage in a scarcity environment, one of the largest disadvantages of the removable heat sink design," Legion said from behind them.

He didn't attempt to hide his sneer. Shepard had trusted the synthetic, but he knew the truth. Such creations were destined to turn on their 'allies' when the time was right. Javik didn't have the time to voice his prejudices, however, as the machine would be necessary if they were to successful rendezvous with the rest of the Normandy team.

"You know, we copied that heatsink thing from you tin-cans," Vega pointed out as they exited the armory and made their way for the airlock.

Around them the crew was scrambling. EDI had released the docking clamps and was preparing to leave the station, waiting only long enough for the three of them to leave. The currents of fear were strong in every human that he passed, the first emotion strong enough to override the prevailing sadness he had felt since the ship had lost its commanding officer.

The ancient warrior did not mourn with the others. He had listened to them talk, referring to the man a friend, a hero. It was the nature of primitive species to deify their greatest members, to see them as more than stock from which they had arisen. To Javik, however, that was how he had seen Shepard. Living proof of his people's theory of galactic evolution. When he had touched the other warrior's mind upon their first meeting the prothean had found a kindred spirit. A mind and body forged by conflict.

So he did not mourn. Not for the man. The young races valued their friendship and companionship far too much. But Javik did reflect upon his passing. It meant that he was truly alone in this strange universe now. He had even considered demanding control of the vessel as the one most qualified to combat the Reapers in Shepard's absence. In the end he had concluded that it was a flawed course of action. Whether or not the turian realized it Shepard had groomed him for leadership. Confiding in him, granting him responsibilities beyond that of the rest of his crew in the guise of 'trust'.

"We are exiting the vessel. You should tell the leaders of your easily fooled fleet that if they allow this act to go unpunished they will only show their own weakness," Javik said as they exited the airlock.

"They are not 'my' fleet," EDI replied. "But I will apprise them of the situation. Good luck, Javik."

He ignored the synthetic's offered boon and looked to his other mechanical ally.

"Machine. Where is this Presidum Commons? Much of the structure of this place has changed from our ancient records and when last I was here I did not have time to familiarize myself with the complete layout."

Legion's glowing optical unit narrowed and widened as if it was thinking.

"Optimal path to the Commons is utilization of general transport. Such a course of action is inadvisable due to current Cerberus interference with Citadel systems, however. Recommend the use of one of the service elevators that can be isolated from the main network to descend approximately six levels."

"Lead the way," he ordered.

The geth gave an odd approximation of a nod and hefted its heavy rifle to take point. General warnings had sounded across the station and many people had already taken shelter, but there were still plenty of civilians running around in a panic. Javik ignored them. If they could not calm themselves then they were merely a liability. Thus far they had encountered no additional Cerberus presence and if their luck held they could combine their forces with those of Garrus' team before further conflict was necessary.

That luck held until they made it out of the maintenance elevator and turned a corner, almost running into a squad of armored soldiers. These were not the same as those that had attempted to storm the Normandy. They looked just like the ones that had been present when Javik had first awakened.

Gunfire erupted almost immediately. These troops were clearly more disciplined but they were still surprised to find three heavily armed individuals suddenly in their presence, allowing the three more experience soldiers to gain the upper hand.

"Fan out!" one of the Cerberus officers yelled even as two of his men were dropped by particle rifle blasts.

The Centurion didn't last much longer. A loud boom rang out and his head simply disappeared after Legion's rifle fired. Javik and Vega had both tucked themselves against opposite walls to try and take advantage of what little cover there was. The element of surprise had allowed them to even the numbers somewhat, but it was still nearly three to one.

"Suppress them and allow the machine to thin their ranks," Javik yelled to the marine, raking his weapon's beam across the pillar that two Cerberus troopers were using for cover.

As soon as one squad ducked behind cover another emerged to spray fire at their position. Vega's shields flashed as absorbed stray rounds but he didn't flinch from his steady assault. A long burst from his rifle managed to catch one of the enemy in the shoulder. Not a fatal wound, but enough to likely incapacitate the trooper.

Javik was about to suggest a tactical withdrawal, watching his own barriers depleting rapidly, when he saw movement to his right. There was a cry of surprise that was abruptly cut off when a drell male emerged from a side alleyway, knocked the nearest soldier's gun aside. Delivering a stunning blow to the side of the man's head, he then promptly snapped the trooper's neck. A quick double tap of a pistol from beyond Javik's field of vision dropped the other enemy.

That was enough to break an otherwise orderly squad. The Cerberus troops turned to face this new threat firing wildly which opened them up to their original opponents. A quick volley of fire dropped half the remaining enemy even as the drell melted behind cover. Javik advanced quickly and unleashed a wave of biotic energy that sent the remaining pair of troopers hurtling off the walkway and over the railing. He suspected their landing would not be pleasant.

The prothean turned his attention to the drell that was standing from cover. While he didn't raise his weapon to point at the newcomer he wasn't quick to trust. Another drell, this one appearing much younger, followed quickly after from the side passage that the first had emerged from. He was the shooter that had taken out the second of the surprised Cerberus soldiers if the pistol in his hand was anything to judge by.

"Who are you?"

"Krios-Assassin," Legion supplied.

The drell nodded at the synthetic solemnly.

"Greetings, Legion. I had not expected to see you again."

"Shepard-Commander freed us from the Old Machines. We promised to aid him in turn."

"He made a habit of saving the lost," Krios agreed, a smile briefly tugging at his lips. "I was saddened to hear of his loss."

When the geth's optic drooped downwards and the flaps around its glowing optic closed tightly Javik blinked with all four eyes. The ability to touch the minds of others made it easy to understand their emotions, but machines of course were incapable of such things. To his well-trained eyes the synthetic's movements appeared to be those of one who actually felt regret, grief... and a myriad of other emotions that should not have been possible. He scowled once more and dismissed the notion.

"The Normandy collective was lessened and consensus damaged by the loss of Shepard-Commander's runtime," Legion replied simply.

"You are the assassin that served aboard the Normandy," Javik interrupted, now remembering a flash of the man's face from Shepard's memories.

"I am," the drell agreed and gestured to the younger man that stood at his elbow. "This is my son, Kolyat. It would seem that Cerberus have become considerably more aggressive in the past months. It is most unlike them."

The prothean sneered. "They are driven by madness, but even a dying animal can kill in its final moments."

For some reason the drell actually smiled at this statement before Javik continued.

"What happened to Williams?" Vega asked. "Shepard said you were watching out for her at the hospital."

Krios spread his hands, palms up.

"I do not know. I observed Councilor Udina visiting her room on multiple occasions. She left the hospital after recovering a few days ago and I was unable to locate her. My contacts are not what they once were. Do you have a plan?"

The last was addressed at him and Javik nodded.

"Yes. Garrus Vakarian has requested that we consolidate our forces at a location in the Presidium. The geth unit can be used to facilitate communications with various parts of the Citadel if we can locate a secure location."

"Then we should hurry," Kolyat said. "We've seen Cerberus shuttles landing troops all over the place."

"Kolyat is correct. It will become only more difficult to travel the longer we wait, follow us... I suspect I know these corridors better than most," Thane added before coughing heavily.

The younger drell shot a concerned look at his father but Krios waved him away.

"Father..."

"There is no time, Kolyat. Come."

The prothean merely nodded and motioned for the other two to follow as well.

* * *

><p>Garrus felt the Vindicator buck into his shoulder as he pumped three bursts into the nearest Cerberus soldier, watching the man tumble backwards over a table. Before he could line up a shot on the Centurion that had been leading the squad, the enemy soldier was wreathed in a biotic glow.<p>

"You'd think people would stop starting shit in my bar after all these years... but you idiots never learn."

The soldier abruptly went flying out into the open space that overlooked the gardens far below. His arms flailed useless when the biotic glow disappeared and left him in free fall. Garrus did a quick scan but found only bodies and wreckage.

"I think the fact that they all wind up dead makes it hard to spread the word, Aethyta," he said and stepped onto the patio area.

"Glad to see you're still kicking," the matriarch said by way of greeting.

"Same. Is Liara..."

"Here," came a voice from his right.

The younger asari came around the corner just as the azure biotic glow faded from her hands. Liara's odd white combination of lab coat and body armor was flecked with blood that he assumed wasn't her own.

"Aethyta is very attached to her bar. Even if we've only been here for a little while."

Quin'Sala's addition came from where she peeked up over the bar. It would have looked mildly comical at first if not for the fact that the barrel of shotgun was also looking over the edge of that same bar. It seemed that Aethyta hadn't just been teaching the young quarian girl about business and bartending in the past months.

"It's a matter of principle," Aethyta said with a shrug. "I see you brought friends too. Good to see some of C-Sec survived. When I heard the explosions, I assumed the worst."

The rest of the team had caught up quickly. A little over a dozen C-Sec officers along with Bailey, Tali, Miranda, and Kasumi. He shook his head grimly.

"It wasn't pretty. There were quite a few wounded... I had to make the decision to leave them behind. A few of the able-bodied survivors with medical training volunteered to stay behind and lock themselves in the armory. Too many of those officers won't survive the night if we don't find a way to get them real medical attention."

He pointedly tried not to turn his head towards Kasumi, even more pointedly not paying attention to how her fingers were gripping Tali's arm with whitened knuckles as the quarian lead her to a nearby chair. Something in his chest vibrated and a tiny growl escaped his lips, but he clamped down on it immediately.

Aethyta clearly did notice, if her frown was any indication, but didn't say anything directly. Instead she nodded off into the distance. Clouds of smoke were already beginning to rise all along the expansive ring that made up the Presidium.

"This is going to get bad. You got a plan?"

"If Legion can make it here we can try to establish communication with other parts of the Citadel," Miranda explained. "This isn't the most defensible position on the Citadel but it was the closest we were likely to make it to."

Bailey pointed at a couple of the larger C-Sec agents, gesturing for them to follow, before addressing Garrus. "There's another reason that this might be a spot too... I know a guy who was running a 'shop' down here. Something tells me he bolted as soon as things went to hell."

The turian raised his brow plates.

"What kind of shop are we talking about?"

"The kind that sells big damn guns to desperate people. I didn't have the manpower to shut him down before... now, well, emergency powers or some legal bullshit like that."

"Have I mentioned how I might have stayed with C-Sec if I'd be in your precinct back in the day, Bailey?"

The human laughed. "Yea, just long enough to probably get us both canned."

Once Bailey had left to acquire the illicit merchandise, Garrus organized the remaining C-Sec officers to fortify the surrounding area. The Commons was sunken farther into the ring than the surrounding Presidum buildings which meant that there was only the single area exposed to the open air. It still gave any Cerberus shuttles or, spirits help them, gunships an avenue to attack them but at the same time it greatly restricted their ability to maneuver. That left only two ways to enter the area by foot, one the main elevator that led to the upper levels and the other from the direction of the main corporate and embassy housing.

Tables were overturned and used to make layered barricades while heavy counters were moved to provide additional cover. Weapons and thermal clips were stockpiled while small groups of three to four agents forayed out to check for survivors. Civilians were urged to take shelter. Anyone that looked like they could handle a gun was brought back. Garrus drifted over to where Kasumi was sitting, crouching down next to her.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Scars," she said cheekily. "Never knew you were such a worrier."

"I should have made you stay with the rest of the wounded in the armory. You'd have-"

The thief's small hand thumped the shoulder of his armor.

"Been bored out of my skull and going crazy. I've never been good at just staying on the side lines, even before Shep and his crazy mission. Before at least I could ignore most things unless they were right in front of my face."

"He did have a way getting people to care," Garrus agreed.

"I was a perfectly good thief before he came along. Not a care in the world."

He snorted.

"We both know that isn't true."

"I can keep telling myself that, though," Kasumi said with a laugh that was entirely too bright considering their current situation. "Now that I think about it... I'm glad it happened this way."

Garrus looked away and sighed.

"I'm not. Shepard should be here, not me. Still the kid in his dad's uniform afraid he'll come home."

He couldn't help but start when he felt fingertips touch the edge of his fringe. The touch was gentle and Kasumi's voice was far lower this time when she spoke.

"You're not pretending. Maybe you don't see it, but Shepard did. Everyone does. You're a leader."

"I've been in charge for a day. The Citadel is under attack and you're bleeding. If we're comparing me to other officers I'm far closer to Victus' son right now than I am to Shepard," he countered.

"You can't take credit for Cerberus. And I'm fine."

Finally he turned back to her, mandibles flat against his jaw as he met her eyes.

"I know you're not fine. Just because black cloth doesn't slow blood stains doesn't make you fine. I can smell it, Kasumi. I can smell your damn blood. Fresh blood."

Kasumi looked away first, confirming everything that he already knew. When she looked back, though, she was smiling. The expression confused the turian even further.

"Can't hide anything from you can I, detective?"

"No, but that doesn't explain why you look like that."

A distant gunshot echoed through the open air. Their respite was going to be over soon and the siege would begin. He could only hope that the rest of his team could make it to them in time. Still seated Kasumi produced the Locust from her hip and extended the weapon, sitting it on the table and look at him with the same smirk in place.

"Because I know that no matter what you think of yourself you're not going to give up. Why do you think you and Shepard were such good friends? You're both a pair of stubborn _bosh'tets_ as Tali would say."

Garrus couldn't help but return the smirk, even if it was a weak one, as he stood. Picking up the rifle from the ground and slapped a thermal into the chamber and flicked off the safety.

"Looks like I'm not the only detective... you're right there. If Cerberus wants this station then they're going to have to fight for it."

* * *

><p>Shepard felt wind. Not just air, but an actual breeze against his skin. The darkness had faded stone by stone until he no longer had to focus carefully to see the next handhold, the next crack in the stone. For the first time in what felt like an eternity he felt warmth on his skin. Reaching up his hand found open air, grasping until his fingers gripped the sharp edge of the crevice.<p>

_You are ours..._

The voice seemed to call to him from the depths but it no longer carried the roar of command. It was a whisper, cloying and harsh, but just a whisper. His other hand gripped the edge and the Spectre gave a final heave of effort to pull himself upwards.

"I...belong..."

Sunlight, no longer kept in check by the cavern walls nearly blinded him as he dragged himself over the lip and onto his stomach against the dry, hot earth. His joints and muscles protested loudly but he ignored them still. Getting his knees under him Shepard pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.

"To.. no one."

Shepard blinked even as he first noticed the chittering sound all around him. His vision cleared and he realized that he was surrounded. Hundreds of rachni warriors were circled around him, pedipalps and claws waving over their heads. Sore muscles tensed, but the creatures did not surge forward. Instead a low hum filled his ears, growing steadily louder.

From the mass of rachni two forms pushed forward. These warriors were half again the size of the warriors around them and gigantic compared to the small workers that skittered between their legs. Their carapaces were similar to the queens, mottled with opalescent colors, though subtly different. One's plates had a distinctly darker look, while the other possessed chitin that was tinged almost red.

_Your fire burns again._

His gaze immediately flicked to the red-tinted rachni, somehow knowing that it was this one that spoke into his mind. The words were still melodious but there was a harsher bass edge to them. Flashes of red and white accompanied the words.

_The sour notes of the dark-song destroyers cannot control those that refuse to listen._

Now Shepard looked to the darker of the pair. The song was deeper still, but slower, more contemplative.

"What's going on?"

The humming built to a crescendo. Overhead a massive white shape came into view and Shepard felt the ground trembling beneath his feet. The ship, it could be nothing else, was brilliantly white, shaped like teardrop made pearl. It practically glowed in the bright sunlight. The voices spoke in perfect harmony now.

_It is time to leave this place, Sings-of-Endings. We no longer hide in darkness. Now is the time we sing the songs of red and black. We sing the songs of war!_

* * *

><p><em>Sorry for the delay ladies and gents. Unfortunately I was unable to keep my schedule due to personal matters. You might also have noticed that RE and Dark witness have only been partially updated. This is due to multiple factors. One being a lack of time, which you can blame on 's hatred of formatting. The other being that since it IS such an effort to reupload and update the chapters I've decide to take more time tweaking them. So you'll see the edited chapters updated more slowly from this point on.<br>_

_As always, thanks for reading and thank you for your patience.  
><em>


	21. Chapter 20: Siege

Chapter 20: Siege

The rachni vessel was massive. From a distance Shepard had misjudged its size, only fully realizing its impressive bulk upon their approach in what apparently passed for a shuttle among the insect-like rachni. Its pearlescent hull had to have been as long as a turian dreadnought, possibly even approaching the size of one of the quarian liveships he had seen when he had encountered the Migrant Fleet.

Memory of the quarian fleet struck him suddenly. Events had occurred so rapidly that the Spectre hadn't had time to come up with a proper plan for the Flotilla to retake Rannoch. Legion had claimed to have a plan but he'd never reviewed it in detail. His only solace was in knowing that they had made their retreat in an orderly fashion. As long as the Admirals weren't foolish enough to re-enter Rannoch's system the rogue geth should have remained neatly contained.

"Too damn many ifs and maybes," he sighed.

_The wander-singers' decisions worry you. Their actions are not your responsibility._

It was the darker of the two large rachni. Shepard had decided that its song reminded him of a cello or other deeply resonant stringed instrument.

"They're free to make their own decisions... but I don't want them to make one that gets their entire species killed."

The other rachni with its reddish carapace sang into his mind, the sound of lighter strings being plucked and awash with blues and greens. Amusement.

_You also wish to sing the harmonies of mating with Devotion-Singer. We do not understand but we hear it in your song. It gives you fire._

"I... yes, Tali... Devotion-Singer is very important to me," he replied and, feeling decidedly odd to be discussing anything of the sort with what amounted to a telepathic bug, changed the subject. "You two sound different, how is that? I thought the rachni were a hive mind?"

Now the blue and green came from the darker rachni, though the feeling was more muted than it had been from its counterpart. It sounded almost bemused.

_All rachni sing in harmony. The knowledge of one is the knowledge of all but we are not a single mind. Some memories sing stronger in others. The small ones, those that you call workers and soldiers, have minds like those of children. Only the most exceptional among them are ever truly aware. We are brood warriors, like queens we have songs of our own. We defend our queen and carry out her will._

"So do you have names?"

_Of course. My name song is Sings-Twilight-Among-Broken-Stars._

The reddish rachni waved its pedipalps next to him before interjecting.

_Mine is Sings-Fury-of-New-Life!_

"That's a mouthful... I'm just going to call you Twilight and Fury. Sound good?" Shepard suggested.

A flash of yellow confusion from Fury.

_Then how will we know that you address us and not Sings-Fury-of-Fallen-Queens?_

"Is... Sings-Fury-of-Fallen-Queens here?"

_No?_

"Then we'll worry about that when I have to keep track of more of you..."

_This shortening of name-songs confuses us but we will agree to this name-song for now._

Twilight's level tone sang in his thoughts.

_Sings-Fury is young, his memory songs are only from a single generation of brood warriors at the time of the diminishing, when the sour yellow notes drove us to war against long-singers and the singers-of-bright-brief-songs. Such youth is easily unsettled without the memory of years to guide it._

The Spectre attempted some rapid translation in his head, using what he'd learned so far to try and reason out the designations for the various species.

"You mean the asari and the salarians?"

_Yes._

While they spoke the shuttle had slipped in to dock with the larger rachni ship. The door, an almost perfectly round portal, opened to reveal an open bay. His two brood warrior escorts quickly scuttled out of the small ship and onto the open floor while Shepard followed more cautiously to look out the door. The angles of the ship were all wrong to his admittedly biased perspective. Openings and corridors didn't seem to be evenly spaced or even the same level, while the deck itself seemed to slope upwards on one side. Even the room itself was far from a regular shape, more closely resembling a trapezoid.

"You two are going to have to give me a crash course on rachni history."

Fury seemed to wave him on.

_Our queen will sing to you the memory-songs! Come, she waits within. Her songs are tinged with orange, she wishes us to hurry._

Shepard gave one more look behind him out of the single window afforded by the shuttle. Utukku spun below, a brown, unremarkable planet choked by storms and traced by seemingly bottomless canyons. A place where things could be left behind and forgotten. At least for a little while. He turned back and nodded at the two rachni.

"Lead the way."

* * *

><p>Six hours.<p>

"Do you copy, Novem? Move to support sector Sedecim. Your area is secure."

"Copy that, Control. We lost men kicking Cerberus out of our sector. Twenty percent casualties."

Tali didn't actually hear Garrus curse, but she could see the way his head dropped slightly and saw his mandibles twitch from her position sitting on the nearby bench. The lull during attacks at least gave her time to clean her shotgun.

"Understood. I'll coordinate with any medical teams available," the turian replied.

Cerberus' assault had begun in earnest less than an hour after they had secured the Commons. Shuttles loaded with fully equipped, combat ready soldiers had seemed to swarm the Citadel all at once. As much as she hated Cerberus even Tali had to admit that the plan was brutally effective. Without communications it would have been easy to take even C-Sec's numerous defenders apart piecemeal. But they had an advantage Cerberus hadn't anticipated. Legion.

The geth platform had been able to dedicate all of its considerable processing power to locking down the emergency communications grid. It wasn't much, mostly restricted to voice only communications and limited total simultaneous connections, but it was enough to turn a panicked mass into a somewhat organized mass. Especially in the right hands.

"Septem! Move to the next ward. Bailey said there's an arms dealer there that they suspected had a small stockpile," Garrus ordered on another channel. "Secure it, rearm, and reload as necessary."

The Presidium's artificial dawn had come and gone, leaving their surroundings lit with an all too cheerful warm daytime light. The pristine white of the Commons was now marred with the signs of battle. Most of the glass windows of the numerous storefronts had long since been shattered, while black score marks dotted the walls. They'd lost three of the C-Sec officers in the first assault.

"You have changed since last we met, Tali'Zorah," a labored voice said from behind her.

She looked to her left to find Thane had already taken a seat next to her in almost absolute silence. All the engineer could muster in response was a simple shrug before continuing to focus on the shotgun across her lap. Fingers found catches and buttons, fitting the shroud back over the barrel snugly.

Thane and his son Kolyat had managed to reach them just before the first assault hit, along with the rest of the Normandy's ground team. They'd just long enough to exchange greetings and for Kolyat to inform her that Lia had returned to the Flotilla when the call had gone out before the first black and gold armored troops had come into view.

"I was impressed with your abilities," the drell continued despite her muted response. "Clearly you have continued to improve. Officer... Nguyen, I believe it was, owes you his life for dragging him back into cover."

Behind her visor Tali frowned.

"I couldn't save the others."

"No, but you saved one. Do not discount the value of that."

I couldn't save the one that mattered, could I?

The words almost slipped from his lips but Tali wouldn't let them, instead biting her lip and voicing a different question.

"Shouldn't you be with your son?"

It was the drell's turn to shrug.

"We have spoken at great length in the past months. My time is too short pay penance for all that has passed between us," Thane explained. "He has forgiven my failings and I have done my best to impart what wisdom I could to him. Kolyat will... be a better man. Better than I was."

Tali looked to where the younger drell was tending one of the wounded C-Sec agents. He really was different than his father, seeming far more relaxed even in their current stressful situation, but at the same time she still saw some of Thane's fluid grace in his child's movement. In the heat of the recent firefight Kolyat had kept his cool despite his relative inexperience. The thought that struck her with its oddity when the quarian remembered Kolyat was only a few younger than she was.

"I'm glad Shepard was able to help him," she said quietly.

"As am I, which is why am disturbing your moment of peace now."

Her head turned at that, polite denials already falling from her lips. "You're not disturbing me... I was just..."

"You were going through the motions. Letting the body lead and the soul follow," Thane replied. "It is a comfort when the pain is too great to face, to simply act. I know it well. I described it to Shepard as my battle-sleep. Without the soul to get in the way one can become... most efficient at it."

"That sounds like exactly what we need right now. Soldiers. Fighters."

"This is true. But it can be like a drug: far easier to turn to when you feel pain than self reflection."

"What are you trying to say, Thane?" the engineer asked crossly.

He smiled, the expression maddening to her in its serenity.

"Only that the pain you feel is familiar to me. I know that you wish to shut it out. To take revenge on those you blame for his death. But I do not believe Shepard would have wanted that path for you. And as one that has experienced it... I would agree."

"It doesn't matter what he wanted!" Tali blurted before she could stop herself, seeing Thane cock one of his scaled brows.

"You do not truly believe that."

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the shotgun, not looking at the drell next to her.

"He's dead. I was so mad at him. He promised that he'd come back to me, but I've finally grown up. I know now that promises don't matter. Dreams don't matter. The only thing that matters now is the war. My people. Shepard... h-he knew that. He tried to protect me, but you can't protect someone from the truth forever."

Beside her Tali heard the rustling of cloth as the drell stood and a hand lightly touched her shoulder.

"No matter our intentions we cannot control every aspect of our fates. My time knowing Shepard was brief, but I am certain that whatever his reason for making the choice he did... your life, your happiness, did matter to him. The feeling in his gaze when he watched you was the same I saw in my Irikah's eyes long ago. Do not let yourself forget everything good in your time together because of the pain."

By the time she was able to force down the lump in her throat the former assassin had gone, moving away to assist his son with the wounded. Tali wanted to lash out at him, but of any of those present the drell was the one that she couldn't accuse of speaking useless platitudes. Everyone aboard the Normandy had experienced loss in some form or another, but Thane's mirrored her own far too closely.

His words couldn't change the feeling that gripped her soul. John had been the first person she had shown her face to since being given her first suit. Since then a few others had seen what lay behind the violet faceplate that separated her from the outside world. Chakwas. Liara. Legion. But with Shepard it had been a gift, a gesture of trust and love. A gesture that she would not make again.

The man was gone, but his war remained. In a way it was the only way she had left to feel close to him. Every event since they had first met had been defined by Shepard's unflinching quest to stop the looming annihilation. So she would follow Garrus in taking up his burden. Tali would become the soldier that the galaxy needed.

"Repeat that, Centum?" Garrus' voice demanded, breaking into her thoughts.

Static was thick on the line from Cerberus' interference even with Legion's filters and constant corrections, but she could still make out the words.

"Large force, at least a platoon. Heading in your direction!-"

The steady crack of an automatic weapon being fired drowned out the voice on the other end of the line for a moment before he continued.

"-think they know someone is coordinating our forces. You're going to have company. Ten minutes max!"

"Damn!"

The turian's fist slammed into the table that had become his makeshift war room. A map of the Citadel had been spread over it and dozens of random items had been drafted into service to mark troop positions, enemy movements, or any number of other variables.

"More are coming."

It wasn't really a question but Garrus nodded, stabbing a finger at the haphazard map.

"An entire platoon. I shouldn't have expected Cerberus to stay ignorant forever, but spirits I wish they could have for awhile longer. Trying to coordinate an entire station with communications that would have been the standard for the humans two centuries ago is hard enough, but I can't do it while I'm being shot."

"Then don't," she suggested.

The turian laughed darkly.

"I don't think Cerberus is going to wait nicely while I organize C-Sec to kick their asses off this station."

"All that time I spent with you and Shepard... I learned a few things. I can't organize an army, Garrus. But I can fight. I can handle the defense. You can focus on defeating Cerberus as a whole."

"Tali... what you're suggesting isn't easy. You'll have to fall back as our defenses weaken. That can mean leaving people behind. Ordering people to fight when you know they're probably not going to survive," he cautioned.

Someone else might have thought Garrus was being patronizing, but she could hear the quiet concern in his voice. He knew all about Haestrom. The team that had been lost nearly to a man on a foolish mission for the Admiralty Board. He was trying to spare her that responsibility again.

"I know. But... thank you for asking," the quarian replied, giving him a nod. "Now you worry about driving these _bosh'tets_ back into space."

The newly minted Spectre's mandibles quirked.

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

><p>"My god..."<p>

The room was cavernous, sloped walls arching far enough overhead to fly a shuttle through with plenty of clearance on all sides. It seemed the rachni did not have what other races would have considered a bridge, but rather a cross between a throne room and a command station. At the center of the room Hope-Singer's massive form sat on what looked like a massive divan. Workers, tiny by comparison, scuttled over and around her. Holographic images appeared to be projected from crystals that surrounding the queen.

_Sings-of-Endings. We sing in whites and blues to see you have emerged from the darkness._

His two brood warrior escorts offered what Shepard could only assume was the rachni equivalent of a bow to the much larger female, their entire bodies lowering closer to the ground as they approached.

"If not for you I would never have left that world. I owe you my life."

_Every daughter born of our brood owes her existence to your mercy. You could have consigned our song to eternal silence on the frozen planet but you did not. Our repayment is only minor... now we offer you our true worth._

One of the queen's limbs stretched out to tap a crystal to her left. A new image appeared that caused Shepard's breath to catch once more. White, teardrop shaped vessels stood out starkly against Utukku's dull brown surface and the equally dark void of space. Nine ships that looked almost identical to the one that he was on moved slowly through space. Surrounding each were a veritable swarm of much smaller ships barely the size of the original Normandy.

_Our daughters have heard the call to war. Nine singers of my brood, nine queens to lead our people to war._

"You did all this in three years?" he asked in amazement.

The queen's song flashed brightly in his mind, rich green-blue and a sound like chimes. Rachni laughter.

_Breeding songs of the rachni are not like those of your people. In the times of the memory-songs our numbers were easily controlled. When our losses are great and numbers few a queen can produce countless warriors and workers. When we left the frozen planet we were the only one of our kind. This was not acceptable._

"Impressive."

_We knew the dark-song destroyers would come. We sought to fulfill our promise._

Shepard looked at the assembled vessels and nodded his thanks. The exact capabilities of the rachni warships was a mystery to him but from what he could tell at the very least the rachni added ten dreadnought class vessels to their forces. Finding a way to add them to the ad-hoc alliance he had been slowly building would be the trick. He also needed to actually rejoin that alliance himself.

A grimace overtook his features as he considered the implications for the first time in what felt like an age. The Council, the Alliance, everyone must consider him to be dead at this point. Missing in action at best. His friends, his crew... Garrus and Tali. He would have apologies to make, but for now he had to focus on simply getting back.

"The Normandy would probably have headed for the Citadel after my... death," he said finally. "But I left Garrus in command. It's possible that he carried on with the mission without informing the Council, which could mean they're as far away as Rannoch by now."

_Your cold songs are strange but we have attempted to learn them!_ Fury interjected.

Before he could ask exactly what the brood warrior meant by that statement, Hope-Singer silenced the smaller rachni with a wave of one of her forelegs. The queen's head turned in his direction.

_Sings-Fury-of-New-Life is impatient but correct. After we escaped the frozen world we decided our children would not be ignorant of the other singers in the galaxy. Your songs of communication between ships and stars were difficult to master, but we have learned to use them. Our fleet is already moving towards the relay leading to the great hive known as the Citadel._

"The Citadel? Jumping your entire fleet in there might panic them. We need to approach this carefully."

_Listen to the song that our scouts heard across the stars. Then we will accede to your wishes._

Another crystal was touched lightly and the view of the assembled rachni fleet disappeared, replaced with a swirling distortion and white noise for a brief moment before an image appeared. Shepard immediately felt his muscles tense when Joker's familiar face appeared on the screen.

_"This is Flight Lieutenant Moreau to any friendly ships in system! The Citadel has been occupied, I repeat, the Citadel is under Cerberus control. Multiple cruisers have taken up close orbit within the Citadel's arms."_

A surprised looking turian visage joined Joker's on the display. The man had only a few vertical lines of paint across his features that gave him an even more severe look than most turians.

_"Normandy? This is Admiral Aerus Retarian. We copy your transmission, please clarify. We were ordered to engage a possible Reaper threat at the edge of the nebula."_

_"Yea, well it was a damn trick, Admiral! Cerberus moved in as soon as your fleet was out of position. They've already started an assault. C-Sec headquarters had been bombed and Cerberus had goons in the streets by the time we pulled out!"_

_"That's... that's not possible!"_

_"It's not just possible, it's fucking happening right now! People could be dying right now. Our people! Now we need a plan!"_

The raw emotion on Joker's face was enough to apparently give an experienced turian admiral pause. Retarian gathered himself and nodded curtly.

_"What about the rest of the Normandy's crew? It's my understanding that Shepard... I mean Vakarian's team is among the best special operations soldiers in the galaxy."_

_"They're already on the Citadel! Garrus ordered me to leave them behind, he said he would try to hold out as long as he could. Now what are you and this big ass fleet going to do to help them?"_

Retarian's answer was honest, even not comforting.

_"I don't know, Lieutenant. I'm transmitting coordinates now, join the main flotilla. Our options are limited if your description of the Cerberus' forces is accurate... but we will begin planning out counter-assault."_

The transmission ended abruptly and the hologram disappeared, leaving him looking at three sets of glowing blue eyes. After all that had happened now his people were trapped on the Citadel under siege by Cerberus forces. Shepard had literally climbed out of his own personal hell to find his way back to the people that matter to him. He would be damned if the Illusive Man and his power mad schemes would take them away.

Shepard met the queen's many-eyed stare and nodded.

"Get us to the Citadel. And bring your whole damn fleet."

* * *

><p>Fourteen hours. Garrus was all too pointedly reminded of Omega, right down to enemies charging straight into his field of fire. The barrel of his rifle glowed cherry red to match the heat sink that ejected a moment later. He heard a cry of pain and saw one of the C-Sec officers crumple, blue blood splashing from his armor where a shot bypassed his shields. One of the troopers had made it through the blistering hail of fire and attempted to vault over the nearby barricade.<p>

The Cerberus soldier was sent tumbling backwards by a shotgun blast to the chest before he even cleared the obstruction as Tali filled the space left by the fallen agent. Her shotgun continued to roar, filling the corridor with flak and adding to his own fire. The barrage ended the attempted rush quickly with the few surviving Cerberus troops firing wildly as they retreated.

"They'll be back soon," Tali said.

He nodded and tossed the quarian a wry grin. "And in greater numbers."

"_Bosh'tet_."

There was no force behind the invective. It was a good memory of a simpler time when all they had to worry about were rampaging geth and a single rogue Spectre. At the time he thought it was the most insane thing he'd ever done or ever would. Now Garrus would give anything to have those days back.

Even as they were talking Tali had knelt next to the fallen turian and begun to apply some of their limited supply of medi-gel. The man wore the same blue as Garrus, though a slightly different pattern, and was doing his best to live up to the stereotype of turian stoicism. Finally Tali got the agent back to his feet and sent him stumbling back towards their impromptu field hospital.

"How are you holding up?" the turian asked her, scanning the corridor for any remaining hostiles but finding nothing.

"Don't worry about me. You should be getting back to Legion and the command area," Tali insisted.

"I'm going to soon, but I figured shooting a few bad guys instead of just telling other people to do it would be good for my spirit. Plus Tartus there was looking dead on his feet. Should have known it would take a bullet to get him to lay down."

"Sounds like a turian I know."

He grunted in acknowledgement and leaned against the wall, checking his rifle and seating another fresh thermal. At least they were well stocked thanks to Bailey's appropriation of the local gun dealer's wares, otherwise they'd have been down to fighting with fists and talons hours ago. Garrus had developed a new appreciation for the gruff C-Sec commander in the past hours. Bailey had always been likable enough but he had proven he wasn't just all bluster. Even now he was taking Garrus place in their little 'command' area.

"Are we winning?" Tali asked after a moment.

"We're not losing."

"That's not much of an answer, Garrus."

The turian sighed and gestured down the battle-scarred corridor that made up one of their two main defensive positions. Dozens of Cerberus troops lay down the length of the chokepoint. The bastards had even tried to get clever and bring in men wielding what looked like heavy riot shields to absorb fire in an attempt to break their line. A good idea... against anyone other than two of the best snipers in known space. It made Garrus smile darkly to think of the Illusive Man fuming wherever he was about the blatant weakness of having a viewing slot in an otherwise impenetrable shield.

"It's the best one I've got, they're definitely not happy. Any ideas the Illusive Man had for a swift takeover are over. C-Sec is holding strong on most the contested areas of the station. But they've got more numbers that I would have ever expected."

Tali crouched behind the heavy crate that made up her part of the barricade, resting the barrel of her shotgun against the ground. Her shoulders slumped for a moment but he watched her quickly shake it off.

"They can't keep it up forever," she said.

"Neither can we. Half of the surviving agents here are walking wounded. Bailey is trying to find any C-Sec units that are close enough to offer us support but our advantage is also our downfall," Garrus explained. "The Presidium is harder to access than any other part of the Citadel, which makes it harder for Cerberus' troops to just swarm us..."

"But with Cerberus in control of so many important areas it makes it hard for anyone on our side to get to us either," the engineer concluded.

He nodded. "That's the problem. I've sent out a call on any local bands that haven't been jammed in the hopes that anyone that is holed up nearby might be able to join up... but so far no takers."

"How long?"

It was a startlingly blunt question from the usually more diplomatic quarian, but Garrus didn't see any reason to mince words. The two of them had been nearly killed too many times and seen too much to bother trying to 'sugar coat' it as Shepard would have put it.

"Maybe another twenty four hours," the sniper admitted. "Turians don't really do any better than humans when it comes to endurance in combat situations. Eventually we're just going to run out of people. Five men dead in the last few hours. Equal number too wounded to fight. Thane is trying but I can see his rifle waver every time he takes a breath..."

"Kasumi isn't doing too well either," Tali added quietly.

His mandibles snapped tight against the side of his face and he felt his teeth grinding against each other, but Garrus forced himself to keep his voice level.

"I've... been staying busy with the command center. How..."

"Aethyta has been making her stay put and having her hack terminals with Quin, try to locate people and get through Cerberus' viruses that they've flooded the Citadel systems with. It keeps her occupied but I can tell she's in pain."

"Where is Chakwas when you need her?" he growled.

Tali stood and moved over to his side of the corridor, reaching out to touch her arm.

"Why don't you go talk to her? Short range comms are working, if they make another push I can call for help."

"There's nothing I can say, Tali. I know enough about human physiology between C-Sec and the Normandy to know that if she has internal bleeding unless we get out of this damn hole I've dug for us..."

He trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

"If you think she blames you for it then you're even stupider than when you used to blame me for the geth during the damn elevator rides," the engineer said.

"I never did apologize for that, did I?"

"No, but you saved my life a few times. I figured that made up for it."

"It doesn't... I was wrong. And I'm sorry," Garrus said.

Tali shook her head.

"I think after talking to Legion that we were both wrong. But that doesn't matter anymore. Just go."

He hesitated for a moment longer before finally giving in. Garrus gave the quarian's shoulder a squeeze and headed down the nearby steps to the open area that they'd turned into what amounted to an armed encampment. As soon as he spotted a familiar face, in this case Kolyat, he flagged the man down.

"Go help Tali keep an eye on the west barricade. I don't want anyone left alone, especially considering that Cerberus has started getting creative."

"Of course," the drell agreed immediately.

A few refugees that had been caught outside in the initial assault had filtered in, but most people had actually listened to the automatic emergency bulletins and stayed in their homes. To his right one of the shops had been converted into a medical area. It was reaching capacity far too quickly. He had just been lucky that most of the C-Sec agents had been up on their standard medical training and a few of the civilians had kept their heads enough to help.

The turian didn't head into the medical area, though. Instead he made his way across the open area to the small bar Aethyta had been operating and pushed past the curtains that separated the employee area from public view. As soon as he entered two pairs of eyes turned to fixate on him, one set glowing behind a visor, the others just visible from beneath a hood.

"Is something wrong?" Quin'Sala asked immediately.

Kasumi responded before he could. "Nothing like you're thinking Quiny. He'd be all in that bristly predator stance if violence was imminent..."

He couldn't help but wince at the sound of the thief's voice. It was far more subdued than her normally cheerful tone. She was sitting on one of the full body chairs that the asari seemed to favor with a holographic interface open in front of her.

"You can tell the difference?" the young quarian asked.

"Yep. His shoulders tense up and he moves his head side to side more. Tends to stand up straighter too," she explained as if he wasn't standing right there.

"Oh, well... that's interesting. I'm going to check on Aethyta and make sure she isn't over doing it. Claims she's as tough as a krogan but she isn't three hundred anymore."

Quin'Sala deactivated her terminal and slipped past him with surprising speed, leaving him standing awkwardly in the room. He glanced around until he spotted a stool likely meant for the bar. Grabbing it he carried the stool over and finally took a seat next to Kasumi, trying to find somewhere to rest his feet that didn't involve his claws catching on the rungs of a piece of furniture clearly meant for humans and asari. For her part the thief simply watched his shuffling with bemusement.

"So... are you... does anything hurt?" he asked, mangling any attempt at sounding casual with his hesitance.

"Only when I laugh?"

He chuckled quietly. "You're not the first human to say that... they were usually lying too."

Kasumi's lips quirked at the edges.

"How do you know I'm lying?"

In one smooth motion Garrus reached out and pushed back her hood and touched the heel of his hand to the thief's face. She looked surprised by the gesture but didn't pull away even as he spoke and brushed away the fine sheen of perspiration across her brow.

"Because you're pale and you're being still. You're never still... and you're doing that sweating thing that humans do."

"I guess you caught me," she admitted with a weak smile. "Too good of a detective."

"Not that good. I can just cheat because turian's have a better sense of smell."

Garrus drew his hand back after a moment's consideration. The gesture had felt natural but he was also suddenly reminded that humans had all sorts of rules out touching and personal space. To his surprise his hand didn't make it all the way back before Kasumi reached out the grab one of his talons.

"It's okay... I..." Kasumi trailed off, apparently for once at a loss for words even as she pulled his hand to the armrest of her chair.

Her more numerous, pale fingers wrapped around his hand and squeezed, as if testing the feel of it.

"We've been trying to get support from one of the nearest districts but Cerberus has them cut off," he replied. "I'm sorry. Just hang in there and I'll fix this, I promise."

"I'm not gone yet, big guy. One little bomb isn't bad... besides, humans regenerate blood really quickly. We're like krogan."

"No you're not. You'd think a famous thief would be a better liar."

Kasumi shrugged and then immediately winced in pain. He felt her grip on his hand tighten considerably.

"I've been lying to people for most of my life. Almost by reflex. Shep, Tail, you... you guys are the only people since Keiji that I've ever felt like I didn't need to. I guess I'm out of practice."

"There are worse reasons to be bad at something I guess," he quipped.

"Yes, there are," the thief agreed.

Silence stretched for long minutes and he noticed that Kasumi had closed her eyes, hand still gripping his. Garrus found himself studying her face, so often obscured behind the hood she wore. It was a small wonder she had bonded so quickly with Tali. He could still see the tightness in her lips and around her eyes that spoke of pain.

The small dot of color on her lip and chin had always reminded him of turian paint, but like many things he'd never thought to ask. Like everything about her it seemed to be a contrast. Void black hair, but pale skin. A career criminal that at C-Sec he would have done anything to catch and put in a cell, but now she was one of the few people in the galaxy Garrus trusted completely. And that all of those traits made him think of words like graceful and beautiful.

A small part of him was telling the rest that he was crazy. That he didn't have a thing for humans. Sure, a few guys at C-Sec had helpfully set him up on dates with some girls that were just dying to 'go xeno' but nothing had ever come of it. But he couldn't deny how right it had felt when he'd touched her face in the gunnery bay. Or even when he had come to her in the hours before they'd breached the Omega 4 relay, asking her to help him with his own paint.

Garrus wasn't sure what was worst. That only now he was starting to figure these things out... or that he had at all when it was likely to slip through his fingers like everything else in his life.

"You're staring, big guy."

He started and blinked, not even having registered that her eyes had opened to small slits.

"Sorry... I..." Garrus stammered, finally swallowing and trying to find the words to continue.

"It's alright. I know... you've got a war to run but could you just... sit here with me for a few more minutes?"

The turian nodded.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

><p><em>Our scouts have moved ahead. They detect many ships in the system, but the treachery-singers you call Cerberus have their ships all around the great hive station. The other ships stay away. We believe they fear to damage the hive station.<em>

"Of course they do," Shepard told the queen. "The battle against Sovereign devastated the Citadel. Two years later they were still repairing the damage. If they go in now then enough stray shots could turn it into the same situation all over again... but in the middle of a war with the Reapers."

_You fear that the weapon-songs will err and strike your own?_ Fury asked.

"Exactly. And if we try to land support troops those cruisers and their fighter support will tear us apart."

Twilight reached out with a claw and tapped a crystal near the queen. The readings of the dozen Cerberus warships were highlighted with a different colored glow.

_Then the only course of action is to annihilate the ships of the treachery-singers._

"How do you intend to do that?"

_Sing calm, Sings-of-Endings, the queen hummed into his mind. The dark-song destroyers created the mass relays to control the evolution of life. But our kind has long lived apart. We sing songs that are only our own. We will deal with the treachery-singers vessels. And a thousand fold of our brood will stand behind you to sweep them from the great hive station._

Shepard arched an eyebrow at the massive rachni but assumed she was being truthful. Considering the rachni's method of communication he was beginning to wonder if they were even capable of lying in the traditional sense.

"Okay, assuming that all works... I'm wearing pants. And I have a pistol, three thermal clips, and a combat knife. This is going to be an interesting fight."

Suddenly workers seemed to appear from nowhere and dance around his feet, tiny legs clicking on the hard floor of the ship before they stopped and all looked up at him in unison. He looked over his shoulder to see more behind him doing the same thing. At the very edge of his consciousness he could hear thousands of tiny sounds, like tinny cheers or chirps. He realized it must have been the voices of the workers, so much weaker than the others, but numerous. Hope-Singer's laughter rang in his head once more.

_Do not worry. Just as we would not send one of our brood-warriors to face an enemy unprepared, so will we not send you forth unarmed. Our ways will be strange to you. But remain still._

And then the little workers surged forward.

* * *

><p>The turian rubbed his eyes and checked his omni tool. Nineteen hours and the Presidium's glow was beginning to dim into the artificial sunset that marked the stations night cycle. It was almost peaceful seeing as how the last Cerberus assault had been nearly an hour ago.<p>

He had left Kasumi asleep in her chair, albeit reluctantly, with Quin'Sala's promise to continue keeping an eye on her. Their running battle with Cerberus had continued to go as well as could be expected. To anyone else it would have been a victory. Cerberus troops only controlled a scant fifteen percent of the Citadel. Some of those areas were important, such as the docks, but the fact that with limited communications and weaponry they had managed to fend off a much better equipped force would have at least earned him a spot in the turian military strategy books.

For Garrus it wouldn't be a victory until he managed to break themselves out of stranglehold Cerberus had them in. Until he could get Kasumi and the other wounded to a real hospital.

"Well, even if they eventually kick us out... we made the bastards pay, that's for sure," Bailey said next to him, staring down at their map.

"If I ever get off this station I'll make sure the Illusive Man pays even more," Garrus growled. "The Reapers come first, but when it's all over... there won't be anywhere he can hide."

The C-Sec commander smiled. "Tell me when that day comes. I'll be there with bells on."

He was about to ask Bailey what the hell that particular human turn of phrase meant when his comm lines exploded with activity. Practically every unit in and around their area was trying to contact him at once. The turian stabbed his omni-tool and opened up the nearest.

"What the hell is going on?" Garrus demanded.

"I don't know! But they're going crazy! They just stopped attacking, Septum sector said that the troops in their area just went right past them headed for the station core, like they were making a run for the tower! They're not even returning fire if we engage them."

He blinked.

"What?"

Before he could get a response the comm lines cut out and Legion's voice replaced them.

"Vakarian-Spectre. We have disabled our communication link algorithm due to new data. We believe you should see the external feeds we have been able to access."

The previously inert geth that had been standing in the corner linked by hardwire to one of the Citadel terminals turned and activated the nearby console. A image, clearly from one of the external cameras around the docking ring, appeared.

"What in the _fuck_ is that?" Bailey asked.

He could see the drives of the Cerberus' cruisers flaring to life as a massive new ship appeared. It looked like the scale of one of Palaven's native predators, pointed at the front and wider at the back, an almost uniform white in color. As they watched the large ship turned towards one of the Cerberus ships and a glow seemed to gather around the ship.

Garrus was about to yell for everyone to take cover. If it fired and missed the shot could hit the Presidium. But there wasn't the telltale flash of a mass driver firing. The glow brightened and cascaded down the ship to what he assumed was its bow... and then a burst of energy tore through space and directly into the enemy cruiser.

The cruiser's kinetic barriers flashed and disappeared, a split second later the warship seemed to buckle and explosions rocked up and down its length. Then came the explosion as its drive core detonated. In less than ten seconds an entire cruiser had simply ceased to be. And on the display he could see more of the same white ships.

"I don't even know what I'm seeing, but I like it," the older C-Sec agent said.

One by one Garrus watched as computer systems came back online. Communications, extranet connections, lighting up like embers sputtering to life. It didn't take long for Tali to come running.

"What's happening? My connection to the Normandy just came back online! I'm even- Keelah! What are those?"

It took everything he had not to howl in triumph, instead he forced himself merely to grin.

"It's the rachni! And all of our communications just came back online because all those cyberwarfare AIs that Cerberus was using were housed in the databanks of those cruisers."

On the projection another of the ships disappeared in a ball of fire. The debris would still cause damage where it impacted but with nowhere near the force as when Sovereign had exploded within the arms.

"The rachni..." Tali breathed. "They kept their promise."

"Yes... yes they did."

The emergency comm system game back online seconds later. Reports poured into his omni-tool. One caught his eye and he opened a channel to the C-Sec office in charge.

"Novem, this is Vakarian. What's your situation?"

This time he got a visual feed of a haggard looking human face instead of just a voice. The man looked as tired as Garrus felt and a little panicked but clearly was working hard to keep his tone level.

"Cerberus just hit us with everything they had all of a sudden, I think they were trying to make for the elevators... and then... just look..."

The C-Sec officer extended his arm to give them a wider view of the point they'd been holding. Scatter gunshots were heard but most of the defenders simply stood there with guns in hand, watching with slack jawed amazement. Cerberus troops weren't firing at them... but at the sudden swarm of claws and teeth that were pouring over them like wave.

"I don't know where they came from but they're tearing Cerberus' troops apart. If they come this way I don't think we can stop them, sir."

"Do not fire on them!" Garrus barked immediately. "Do you hear me, captain? Do not! They're on our side."

"Our side?" the agent asked, looking confused.

"Order your men to stand down. Do not open fire on the rachni!"

"Y-Yes, sir."

He could hear the captain yelling at his men to safety their weapons as he disconnected the line. When the turian looked up Miranda and Thane had joined them. The operative cocked one dark brow.

"The rachni?"

"Our new allies have arrived," Garrus said curtly, his smile fading. "The price was too damn high but I can't complain about their timing. Cerberus' forces are completely cut off, but it sounds like they're making a push for the Citadel tower."

"Why would they bypass us just to reach the tower? There's no way to escape from there. It doesn't make any sense," Bailey objected.

Thane shook his head. "It only does not make sense if escape is their objective. Cerberus' forces have shown themselves to be nearly fanatical in their attacks. If their mission to secure the Citadel for the Illusive Man has failed then clearly they are attempting a secondary mission."

A guttural cursed escaped the Spectre's lips and he slammed his fist into the table. It was a simple answer that he should have seen before, but he was too tired and too wrapped up in a dozen other problems before now.

"The Council," he explained. "If you can't hold an objective then you do as much damage as possible on your way out. They're going to try to take out the damned Council!"

"If the Council is killed in the middle of this war... it would be devastating. Even if they could appoint new members, people's confidence would be broken," Tali said.

Garrus looked at the small assembled group. "Exactly. We can't let that happen. Bailey, I need you to get everyone on their feet. With Cerberus not focusing on us anymore we can get the wounded to medical facilities."

"Not a problem, we can start moving them out immediately. I'll make sure your second story girl gets to the first doc we find."

He nodded his thanks to the human and tried not to let mix of relief and concern show on his face. Bailey would get her where she needed to be.

"Most of the team will stay with you to provide support and make sure Cerberus doesn't get any ideas. Tali, Miranda, I want you with me. We're all tired but we can't let these bastards succeed after fighting this hard. Even if they lost their leadership on those cruisers they've still got enough troops to overwhelm any guards the Council has left."

"They won't be without any kind of leadership," Miranda interjected. "I haven't heard any reports but I can guarantee you that the Illusive Man's current right hand would have been here with the ground troops."

Tali cocked her head at the woman. "He replaced you already?"

"No. I was one of his favorites, but I was never a true believer. Not like Kai Leng. He's an attack dog and the Illusive Man is the only one that's ever been able to hold his chain. I've killed. He is a killer. I think he... enjoys it."

"He sounds like someone that never needs to make it off this station alive," Garrus ordered.

Miranda stepped forward and caught his attention with a gesture.

"Garrus, I need to make sure you understand, if we encounter Kai Leng you cannot negotiate, do not ask him to stand down. Just shoot the son of a bitch. I've seen what he can do and I'm sure he hasn't been idle since I left Cerberus. And if he makes it to the Council first... a few bodyguards won't even slow him down."

"Understood. Now grab your gear and let's move out."

Each of them immediately left at a brisk pace except Thane. He was preparing to ask the drell exactly what he was doing when the former assassin spoke.

"I will not be going with the wounded. My skills were never particularly suited to being a guard. I can, however, move quickly through areas others might find inaccessible. I know the mind of a killer, with luck I will be able to reach the Council first."

"Thane, I can't force you to do anything but in your condition..." Garrus trailed off.

"My condition will not improve in a hospital, my friend. I was told by a doctor six months ago that I had only three to live. The past hours exertion have taken their toll, the tingling in my extremities, blurred vision."

He grimaced, but understood what the man was saying.

"If you could reach the Council before this Kai Leng it could be the difference between them being caught by surprise and being able to hold out long enough for support to reach them. I can give you access codes that would get you past any C-Sec blocks..."

It was apparently what Thane was waiting to hear. The drell reached to his belt and produced a small injector, placing it against his wrist and depressing the button on the back. Garrus heard a faint mechanical sound and a hiss, the faint smell of something acrid reached his nostrils.

"The drugs I was provided will increase the oxygen in my blood and help control my symptoms for a time. I merely wished to inform you of my intentions so that you might... explain my decision if it becomes necessary. If I reach the Council I will contact you."

Garrus extended a hand and clasped wrists with the drell.

"Good hunting."

"Amonkira watch over you as well, Garrus Vakarian."

* * *

><p>Sometime ago Thane had told Shepard that it was liberating to have no obligations or responsibilities, to have accepted his death. It had been true. The old ways brought their comfort with the promise of peace in Kalihira's embrace and the chance to see his <em>siha<em> once more. Commander Shepard's aid in reconciling with his son had helped give him the final peace he needed to embrace his fate.

But part of him still railed against the quiet acceptance of the end. The old gods that so many of his people had forgotten were born on a world of hardship where arid wastes would claim the weak and every dawn was a struggle for survival. It might have been the hanar that had saved the drell species from extinction when their world began to die, but it was the drell themselves that had refused to die off long after they should have. They scraped and clawed a life for themselves long enough for the hanar to arrive.

"Amonkira, lord of the hunt, guide my hand to strike down those who would unleash evil into this world," he whispered as he ran.

The drugs that the drell had injected himself with were a liberation of their own. Artificial cells to increase his oxygen intake. At one point he had held out hope that they could provide a cure or at least an extension to his life, but that hope had died when the side effects had been explained. The body couldn't tolerate the artificial cells for long, they would break down quickly and build up in his bloodstream, eventually becoming toxic unless he was under constant dialysis. Even then the treatment would cause his condition itself to deteriorate more rapidly as his body relied on the artifice to oxygenate his blood.

So instead he had requested a single dose of the drug and taken it to another, less reputable physician. A contact from his old life. The potent cocktail that had been created with the artificial cells and highly illegal stimulants left him without pain for the first time in countless months.

"Arashu, goddess of life, watch over Kolyat and those in his care in the darkness that is to come."

With agility born of years of practice he scaled the elevator shaft, exiting on the next floor up to bypass the security locks put in place by Cerberus. His omni-tool glowed on his wrist, scanning frequencies for anything identified with the Council. Each hit pinged and narrowed down the Council's location.

Around the next corner a pair of Cerberus troops waited, while a third knelt by the elevator controls, apparently trying to hack the device. Thane didn't slow, but rather ran faster. The first hadn't even raised his gun when the assassin's arm wrapped around his neck, using his forward momentum to yank the man to the ground with a vicious twist. A single crack told the drell everything he needed to know even as the other soldier leveled his rifle.

Thane's pistol was already in hand, two shots ringing out and catching the trooper in the throat. The third squeezed off a panicked burst of his submachine gun that went wide before the same double tap sent him to the ground as well. He released the dead Cerberus trooper's neck and let the corpse fall to the ground, moving to the elevator controls and shoving aside the other fallen man. With the codes Garrus had provided it was a simple matter to bypass the security.

He checked his omni-tool against the locks in the system. Security lock downs on every floor up to the sixty second, nothing above. A simple trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Thane stepped inside and activated the elevator.

"Kalihira, lady of the seas, accept this tarnished soul into your embrace. Grant passage to those who would serve the path of the righteous. I beg the forgiveness of the sins of those who do not know of our ways," Thane muttered, lowering his head as the elevator ascended.

"Accept into your embrace Mordin Solus who gave his life to correct a past wrong. A brilliant mind wracked by the guilt for the past, but a bright soul that would alight the seas of the afterlife with his glow.

"Accept into your embrace Johnathan Shepard. It is through his will that my own soul was able to save that of my child from the path of darkness. He honored life in all its forms, but understood that the righteous must sometimes accept into themselves the responsibility of death."

"Kalihira, embrace these souls that would strive for the light despite the shadows in which they have dwelled. Grant peace to those we leave behind."

Thane Krios lifted his head as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

* * *

><p>"We can't stay here! This position is completely indefensible!"<p>

Ashley gritted her teeth and backed away from the door, dropping into a crouch and tucking her rifle into her shoulder to cover the way they'd come.

"I understand that, sir," she said to the turian Councilor. "But Cerberus is burning through the lockouts as quickly as we can put them up. I'm a soldier not a quarian!"

"We need to get to the transport pad outside," Udina insisted. "We can take an aircar to a safer location."

"You are assuming that the automated aircar system is going to function, Udina," Tevos snapped.

"I don't see you offering a better solution!"

The elevator lights glowed brightly, the indicators getting steadily brighter.

"Everyone shut up!" Ashley barked.

To her surprise they actually listened. It had been Udina's idea to make her a Spectre. He kept insisting that humanity needed better representation, someone that understood their precarious position. There had been more but the soldier had tuned it out. In the end she had only officially accepted when the news had come across the wire. Shepard was gone. Something in her had clicked, the part that said she had a duty.

Now she had been a Spectre for less than a day and somehow had ended up being in charge of protecting the Council. When Cerberus' attack had come the Council had just finished affirming her appointment. Since then they'd been trying to avoid any enemy patrols and keep moving through the Citadel tower, unwilling to stay in one location for more than a few hours lest they become surrounded.

"Take cover, Councilors... we have incoming," she ordered, and noted that Sparatus had already done so and even had a pistol in hand.

The honor guard had consisted of a pair of turians when this had all began. One of them had died in the first minutes of the attack to what Ashley could only assume was a Cerberus sympathizer that had been in the Council offices. She hadn't even known his name. The other, Perinis, had fought with her for the better part of the day, only to fall to a sniper's bullet when they'd been forced into an open area.

Her finger tightened on the trigger as the doors opened, but she stopped when a single man stepped out of the elevator.

"Hold fire!" Ashley said to Sparatus.

The man was a drell, wearing a simple leather overcoat and pants and carrying a pistol in his hand. She couldn't imagine Cerberus would have recruited an alien for an attack like this and for some reason he looked familiar. She couldn't afford to take chances, though.

"Don't move! Drop the weapon and step away from it slowly."

Things only became more surreal when the man smiled faintly.

"I am not your enemy, Ashley Williams."

"How do you know my name... wait, I remember you now," she said. "You were at Huerta Memorial when I was recovering. I remember... I remember you watching me while I was doing physical therapy."

"It would appear I have allowed my talents of unnoticed observation to become... what is the human saying? 'Rusty'?" he explained calmly. "My name is Thane Krios. I apologize for not introducing myself before."

Councilor Valern's voice spoke up behind her.

"Krios? You were in Shepard's report regarding the Omega Four relay. An assassin formerly in the employ of the hanar. Extremely proficient."

The salarian's voice didn't sound accusatory but Thane still inclined his head in a conciliatory gesture.

"This is true, but I am not here as an assassin. Spectre Vakarian and his team are on their way to secure you, but Cerberus' forces are already on their way. Do you have an exit from this floor?"

"We can't use the elevator to go any higher, we've had reports of Cerberus units taking control of the Council chambers," Tevos said.

"Which still leaves us with the transport system outside," Udina said once more.

Thane glanced at the open area outside and frowned, likely thinking the same thoughts she had. The large open area for aircars to land offered no cover to speak of aside from the small console used to summon the automated cars. It was separated from the room they were currently in by thick glass and a single door.

"It is not optimal but I am afraid there are no other options."

"At least someone understands! I for one have no intention of staying here!" the human Councilor agreed and activated the door to the outer area.

The other Councilors looked hesitant but began to follow, just as the elevator chimed once more. Yellow indicator lights flashed once again, this time coming from above. Silently she cursed and readied her rifle as Krios moved to stand next to her, but looked over in surprise when his hand gripped her rifle and pushed it down, shaking his head.

"Follow the Council and secure the door. This is not your fight."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Ashley snapped back. "This has been my fight ever since we first ran into these Cerberus bastards."

Her anger didn't last long under the drell's gaze. There was something compelling about the way he looked at her, the unshakeable confidence in this voice.

"A Cerberus assassin named Kai Leng is likely to be leading the assault on the Council. He has likely been augmented with Cerberus' cybernetic technology. You are a soldier, Ms. Williams, and a good one from what Shepard told me of you. But you are not ready to face this man."

"And you are?"

Thane shrugged.

"Maybe it requires an assassin to defeat an assassin. It is irrelevant, I promised Commander Shepard to watch over you while you were aboard the Citadel. That promise has not lapsed. If you wish to protect the Council, then you will follow them outside and secure the door behind you. Otherwise they will be in an exposed position without protection."

She couldn't argue with the logic of his words, even if she balked at the idea of running away from a fight. If anyone knew what Cerberus was capable of, though, it was her. Two months in recovery from facing their synthetic creation was enough to tell her that the situation was serious. The elevator pinged again, only a few floors away.

"Alright," Ashley finally agreed, moving to the door.

"Thank you. I am sorry that our meeting was brief. I think I would have like to have known you better, Spectre Williams."

The soldier looked over her shoulder nonplussed to see Krios incline his head slightly in her direction before he turned to face the elevator.

"Yea, you too, Thane."

Ashley stepped out of the door and slapped the control behind her to initiate the locking sequence.

* * *

><p>The entire operation was a disaster. Months of planning, millions of credits in resources and manpower... all squandered. Because of a damned cuttlebone and a fleet of insects. Kai Leng wasn't sure which infuriated him more, that Shepard's pet turian had thwarted their coup so stalwartly or that a bunch of bugs arrived before he could personally kill every member of Shepard's crew.<p>

"Sir, overrides end at floor sixty six," one of the two troopers behind him said.

"Then we stop at sixty seven. Your priority is the Council. Secure if possible, otherwise shoot to kill."

"Yes, sir."

For ten years Kai Leng had been the Illusive Man's bloody right hand. Lawson had been his pet project, but Leng knew that he was the one that was always considered reliable. Nothing stood in the way of completing his mission. The fact that the Illusive Man had invested so much in Commander Shepard rankled his sensibilities. Humanity didn't need a saviour that spent more time with the likes of asari and turians than with his own people.

It had only been made worse when Leng had looked up the information from the Collector mission. He had already thought the man to be a fool taken in by the other species that would keep humanity under their heel, but learning that he had actually taken a quarian to bed? He felt his lips curl into a sneer. The Illusive Man might hold some dread fascination with the so called Hero of the Citadel, but Leng saw him as just another traitor.

"No better than bestiality," he muttered.

"Sir?"

"Nothing," Leng snarled. "Ready yourselves."

The elevator doors opened and Kai Leng ducked on instinct at the sight of an unfamiliar face. Two shots rang out and his soldiers fell back against the wall, dead before they had even fired a shot. He threw himself forward out of the elevator and rolled to his feet, activating his barrier generator and extending his hand that glowed with built up energy. He could feel the cybernetic implants the Illusive Man had given him like a hum in his bones.

"You are Kai Leng."

The man standing with his gun raised was a drell, and there was no doubt in his voice. Leng immediately identified his features.

"Krios. I've heard of you. Another of Shepard's menagerie."

"One of Shepard's friends," the drell replied.

He smirked cruelly. "And where is your friend now?"

"Beyond the cares of this life," Krios said calmly. "I will join him soon, I suspect, but you will not."

Leng lowered his hand. If the other man was going to fire he would have already. So what was he doing? He looked to his right and saw his objective. The Council was just outside the door looking at them through the glass. Udina was tapping at a console. He looked back to the drell.

"You're correct. I have no intention of dying."

Thane shook his head.

"You misunderstand. You will die. By my hand or by another's, but you will not experience Kalihira's embrace. She gives no solace to the souls of those who derive pleasure from the suffering of others."

He frowned and studied the drell more closely behind the optical units that covered his eyes.

"I knew of you before Operative Lawson mentioned your name. Those who do the things we have done operate in the same circles, speak to the same people. But we differ in that while my body has killed, my soul has never enjoyed it."

"Well... you're right about another thing then. I'm going to enjoy killing you, frog," the assassin hissed. "You're past your prime."

Thane dove to the side just as he was about to fire, the blast from his implanted weapon instead slamming into the glass behind and sending a spiderweb of cracks across its surface. He tried to line up another shot only to see the drell's pistol come flying through the air. Leng managed to turn but the grip still caught him in the side of the head.

He was staggered for only a moment but it was enough for Thane to close the distance between them. The first blow he caught on his forearm, but the second slammed into his midsection hard enough for some of the air to leave his chest even through his armor. Leng drove his fist into his opponent's side and then shoved him back with both fists. The drell didn't hesitate for a moment however, bringing a fist that crackled with biotic energy down in an overhand blow that he was barely able to block.

The sheer force knocked him down and caused a growl to escape his lips as he jerked back to his feet. Leng drew the sword from his back and charged forward, raking the blade through the air in a waist high stroke... but found only air. The assassin' enemy dropped to a knee and ducked beneath the strike with amazing speed, bringing both his fists up into Leng's chest with enough power to lift the human from his feet.

Rolling to his side Leng kicked upwards and drove his boot into the drell's ribs, feeling a satisfying impact. Thane lashed out with a kick of his own at the downed man, but Leng was quicker this time, blocking with one hand and slashing out with the blade in his other. It was a glancing blow but he saw blood trickling down his enemy's leg.

"Did you really think you could beat me?" Leng demanded as he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the ache in his chest where Thane had punched him.

Thane didn't answer, simply adjusting his stance and motioning the other man forward. They impacted with a heavy thud, a sudden fury of blows exchanged between them. He could feel each hit, flashes of pain and promises of future bruises, but Leng could hear the drell's breathing becoming thick and labored when he delivered a knee to the man's midsection and pushed away.

When the drell looked up, though, it wasn't with an expression of defeat but rather with a smile and the barest of nods towards the elevator.

"I never intended to defeat you... only to leave you with the knowledge that a dying man kept you from your targets."

The elevator lights were glowing once more, pinging in time as it passed each floor on its way up. With a roar of anger he turned back to the drell and strained his implants to the limit, hurling his blade at his enemy.

Even in his best shape Thane didn't have the reaction speed to dodge the throw. The blade took him just under the ribs and the sheer force sent him back into the glass windows. Already damaged they shattered outwards, sending the drell tumbling out onto the open area and leaving a trail of blood behind him.

Leng smiled viciously and knelt to pick up the fallen pistol, activating his heavy barriers once more as he stepped over the threshold of the shattered window. He spared the human woman that was trying to push the Councilor's down behind the far too small console a contemptuous glance before advancing on the drell.

"What a waste of your life, drell. First I'll kill that girl, then the Council of aliens she's trying to protect."

He didn't get a response from the drell aside from a spit of blood at his feet. Leng reached for the blade embedded in the man's chest. With a vicious jerk he pulled it free and watched the blood pool.

"This wasn't a fight," Leng sneered, and raised the sword to finish his opponent. "This was an execution."

The assassin heard a heavy thump to his right and the crack of a mass accelerator a split second before pain tore through his wrist. His sword spun away as his fingers convulsed in pain.

"You want a fight?" a voice snarled.

Leng gripped his shattered wrist with his other hand and staggered, his back was now to the Council and to his right he saw the elevator opening. From within familiar figures poured out. The turian, the quarian. Even the Illusive Man's traitorous pet. But they didn't hold his attention.

His attention was fixed on the figure directly in front of him. The man was wrapped in gleaming black armor from head to toe, with the edges of every joint looking jagged and sharp, a single slit visor glowed a baleful red, the same as the only other color that broke up the pure black: a crimson splash that ran from his left shoulder to his chest. The stylized image was that of a rampant firebird.

"W-Who..." Leng stammered.

The man reached up with his free hand and gripped his chin, yanking upwards until the armor seemed to split open and the helm came away. He could feel his eyes widen and his mouth work in disbelief as the man's face was revealed to him.

"You're dead, Shepard!" the assassin yelled. "I saw the reports! From your own crew... You were dead!"

A frightening smile crossed the Spectre's features.

"Death and I have established an equitable working relationship."

Leng watched as Shepard's left hand balled into a fist. Where his omni-tool should be an azure glow crackled into life and formed into what could only be described as a blade the length of his forearm. The man that should have been dead stalked towards him with grim purpose.

"Why don't I introduce you?"

* * *

><p><em>Sure you've all been waiting forever but at last there has been a return :D I think this one also wins the 'longest chapter to date' for Requiem.<em>

_Random question of the day: I was speaking with someone about the story recently and mentioned that I haven't decided whether to retcon Tali's appearance to 'canon' or keep it the same as in the original Razor's Edge. Since I can't seem to decide one way or the other... you guys tell me what you think.  
><em>

_Thanks for all of your loyalty in this crazy story arc... it ain't over yet!  
><em>


	22. Chapter 21: Unbowed

Chapter 21: Unbowed

Garrus' pulse thudded in his ears as he burst from the elevator, Tali and Miranda at his side. His eyes flicked from detail to detail: overturned furniture, a shattered window. People cowered to his left behind a console, obviously the Council. A familiar woman in blue armor. Dark blood in a trail along the floor and a man standing over a drell's fallen form on the open area outside. The man that could only have been Kai Leng pulled his sword free of Thane's body.

"This wasn't a fight. This was an execution," the Cerberus assassin said, voice dripping with malice.

Leng's back was turned to him and Garrus surged forward, trying to bring up his rifle and get a clear shot before the stroke could fall. Peripherally he could see the blue armored woman doing the same and suddenly realized the reason for the familiarity. It was Ashley Williams. The turian silently implored whatever spirit of the old Normandy was left to guide their aim... but as his finger touched the trigger everything seemed to stop at once when something moved to his right.

It was a pulse of biotic energy that drew his attention a heartbeat before a black-clad form shot up over the lip of the balcony and dropped back down to land with a heavy thud. Garrus' breath caught in his throat as the figure stood from his crouch. Jet black armor, gleaming in the Presidium's artificial light, a splash of crimson from left shoulder to breast. A pistol appeared so quickly in the man's hand that the motion was almost a blur and a shot echoed loudly in the open air. The assassin's blade clattered to the ground.

"You want a fight?"

Garrus felt his mandibles twitch, muscles absolutely frozen. The voice he heard should have been lost to history, only to be conjured up in bittersweet memories of better times, but he knew in that moment that it couldn't be anyone else. He recognized the tone, the inflection. The rage. It was the same rage that had tumbled from his own lips when his squad had fallen. The same as when he had lost his friend for the first time in the depths of space.

"W-Who..."

Everything had changed in an instant for Leng. His words moments before had been cold, confident, even arrogant. When Leng's attacker ripped the helmet away to reveal his face, the assassin's voice rose to even more frantic heights, even as Garrus felt his blood surge in triumph.

"You're dead, Shepard!" the assassin yelled. "I saw the reports! From your own crew... You were dead!"

The smile that curled across Shepard's face could have frozen the lakes of Palaven. He tossed aside the pistol.

"Death and I have established an equitable working relationship... Why don't I introduce you?"

Leng lunged for his fallen blade as Shepard surged forward like a wild animal released from its bonds. The azure glow returned, this time wrapped around the Spectre's left hand like a curved blade. In three long strides he'd closed the distance between them, lashing out with a fast kick to the assassin's midsection that sent him sprawling. To the Cerberus agent's credit he reacted quickly, kipping up and holding his sword awkwardly in front of him with his opposite hand while the other remained curled useless at his side.

"Why won't you stay dead? You're a traitor to your entire species!" Leng demanded in a strained hiss.

The Spectre's response was to simply charge forward, knocking Leng's defenses aside. A vicious right cross snapped the assassin's head to the left and when the man tried to counter by bringing his blade down in an overhand slice, Shepard simply caught the blade in a grip that crackled with biotic power.

"Sorry to disappoint," Shepard snarled.

And tightened his grip. With a bright flash the blade shattered and he stabbed forward with his right hand. Even with his keen eyesight Garrus was barely able to track the movement. A crackling azure blade appeared around Shepard's right first and with a single brutal thrust he slammed it into the other man's chest. Leng's mouth opened in a silent cry of surprise, a faint gasp escaping his lips. The Spectre yanked his hand back and the blade faded in mid-air as Leng fell to his knees.

"Not... possible," the assassin choked out, blood running down his lips even as he tried to stand, only to collapse forward.

Shepard ignored him, turning to kneel next to Thane. The turian could see Thane's eyes flutter when the Spectre cradled his head. It was a wonder that could only be attributed to the drell's faith and strength of will that he was conscious after such a wound.

"S-Shepard..." Thane whispered weakly. "I... expected to see you... but not... here..."

"Too much left to do, Thane."

"Of course, you-"

The drell coughed heavily, blood staining his lips and more pooling beneath him. His training told him to call for a medic, to try despite the evidence he saw, but Garrus' instincts told him that it would be a pointless gesture. In the Citadel's current state it would be difficult to even find an emergency response unit.

"You would... refuse death. Never have I... seen such a driven soul," Thane continued, lips curling into a strained smile.

Shepard laughed quietly. "Then you've never looked into a mirror."

Behind them the elevator opened once more and a quartet of C-Sec agents in full armor along with Bailey and Kolyat emerged. The sound of their movement seemed loud in the sudden silence that had followed Shepard and Leng's brief but violent confrontation. The moment the younger drell saw his father, he burst into a run while the remaining agents quickly headed towards the Council.

"Father!"

"Kolyat?" Thane asked, barely a whisper now.

"I'm here."

The older drell blindly reached out a hand and his son grasped it tightly.

"I am... sorry... to leave you... with this burden. To face a... great darkness... alone..."

"He'll never be alone," Shepard promised. "As long as the Normandy still flies he'll always have a family to call on."

"Thank you... my friend."

The injured drell coughed again, every word seemingly forced passed his lips. Kolyat smiled down at his father with damp eyes.

"It's alright, father... I understand. And I'll make you proud. I promise."

"You have already... made me... proud."

Thane drew another shuddering breath and exhaled. And then there was silence. With great care Shepard lowered his head to the ground and brushed a hand across his face, closing the former assassin's eyes the final time. Garrus bowed his own head for a moment in respect. When he looked up Shepard had stood, fists clenched at his side, jaw tight.

Movement once again caught the turian's eye to the right and despite his earlier warnings to C-Sec, he had to fight the instinct to raise his weapon as a pair of rachni climbed over the edge of the balcony where Shepard had come from. They were far larger than the rachni soldiers they had encountered on Noveria, standing almost chest height and with unique colorations instead of the generic gray-brown he had seen before.

_Sings-of-Endings. Our queen sings that the treachery-singers are being cleansed from the hive-station. The queen-ships have driven their vessels away or destroyed them. The station will be yours in a brief measurement of your time._

Garrus wasn't sure how, but he knew it was the almost black colored rachni that was singing in his head just like the queen had on Utukku. It was only confirmed when the large creature actually seemed to incline itself in the direction of the fallen drell and Shepard.

_We heard the final notes of Sings-Penance. We mourn the loss of a member of your brood._

"Thank you, Twilight. He was a good man. A man that shouldn't have needed to die at the hands of... something like this," Shepard said and looked back at the fallen Leng.

_His song is twisted and filled with discordant notes. We cannot give it a name-song, it is a foul thing and should be destroyed. Just as all of those who have attacked the hive-station are being destroyed._

The reddish rachni visibly bristled as it 'spoke' and shuffled angrily towards the fallen Cerberus agent, movement that seemed to snap everyone out of the trance that they'd been in since Shepard had appeared in their midst.

"This is madness! Commander Bailey, Spectre Williams. I require that you secure the Cerberus prisoner and take Commander Shepard into custody," Udina ordered suddenly.

Virtually everyone present stared at the human Councilor nonplussed.

"What?" Bailey finally asked.

"Councilor, I-" Ashley began.

"This man was reported as dead by the same Spectre that we just promoted to replace him!" Udina snapped and turned to the other three Councilors. "The last time he returned he was working with Cerberus, the ones responsible for his resurrection! Now he returns with an army of creatures that fought a war with this Council centuries ago. He could seize control of the station in guise of saving us from Cerberus!"

A minor storm of chaotic questions and confused statements erupted from the Councilors as each tried to talk at once.

"Why would he kill so many Cerberus personnel?"

"The Illusive Man would sacrifice expendable troops without second thought!"

"But for what purpose?"

"How are we supposed to explain that Shepard is alive only a day after we announced his death?

"Look at the facts! He returned with an army of rachni! Clearly he intends to seize control!"

Valern sighed and nodded. "Maybe it would be best if Shepard were to stand down until..."

A crack like a lightning strike silenced them all. Shepard stood facing the Council with one fist against his palm where he'd slammed them together, both hands glowing with biotic energy. There was no humor or warmth on his face now. Just anger.

"Enough! You're forgetting one important question, Councilor," the Spectre addressed Udina, the title laced with disdain.

"And what is that?"

"What if I did?"

It was Tevos' turn to blink in surprise, the asari turning to stare at the man in shock.

"What?"

She wasn't the only one knocked off balance. Garrus flicked his gaze back and forth between the C-Sec guards that were shuffling nervously and the rachni that now stood placidly behind Shepard. He wasn't sure what play his newly risen friend was making but it was a dangerous one.

"How exactly would you stop me if I did try to seize control?" Shepard asked ominously, taking a single step forward, every word coming out in a bass growl. "I came here with the entire rachni fleet behind me. The Citadel Defense fleet is out of position and rachni soldiers are swarming over every part of this station. If I wanted power I would already have it!"

The human Councilor wasn't so easily dissuaded. His face appeared dangerously red and his words were almost spit out of his mouth.

"You're only proving my point. Spectre Vakarian! You will assist Spectre Williams and restrain Shepard immediately! He has made a clear and specific threat to the sovereignty of this Council!"

Tension hung in the air, everyone afraid to make a move. Garrus saw the other human close her eyes briefly and tightened her grip on her rifle. Ashley didn't sound happy when she spoke but her words were firm.

"Dammit, Shepard. What the hell game are you playing? Just stand down!"

"This is insane, even for you!" Sparatus said from behind the woman.

"I just clawed my way out of hell, Councilor," he retorted. "You don't know the half of it. A good friend, a member of my crew, just died to save you all. I've cleaned up your mistakes ever since the first day I was appointed as a Spectre by this Council. I've reported, screamed, argued, and everything in between to make you understand the gravity of the threat that we face."

Shepard shook his head and continued. "But here we are, even as the Reapers rip this galaxy apart. The same situation all over again, one of you doesn't trust me and everyone scrambles to cover their own asses! Why don't you ask Councilor Udina why it is that he's so eager to have me arrested?"

"This confrontation is unnecessary. If we could all just lower our weapons..." Tevos said, ever the peacemaker.

"Spectres, officers! I am ordering you to take Shepard down!" Udina demand.

The C-Sec agents, a pair of turians and pair of humans, looked downright terrified but dutifully raised their weapons to form a wall in front of the Council. Garrus could see Ashley's weapon waver and the grimace that contorted her features as she held her ground.

Garrus gripped his rifle and flicked off the safety. The look on Shepard's face wasn't one of judgment or anger when he turned his head towards the turian, just a simple nod of acceptance. A look that said the man understood whatever his choice. Follow the Council's orders... or take it on faith that Shepard had a plan. That he was still in the right after everything Garrus knew.

It hadn't been a choice a year ago when Shepard had walked into his life, a ghost given new life. There wasn't a choice now. The only difference was that Garrus was now a Spectre himself, that achievement he'd once promised Shepard that he would strive for before everything went to hell. The spirits could take Udina. Garrus shifted his stance and took his place at Shepard's left, raising his rifle into the ready position.

"The Council made me a Spectre yesterday, Udina," the turian growled. "But the Normandy made me the man I am today. You want to test my loyalty? You just got your answer."

Behind him the sound of two more weapons being engaged pierced the silence that followed his declaration. Garrus didn't have to look to know that Miranda and Tali had just taken up their positions to either side. The sound of a third didn't catch his attention enough to cause him to turn his head, brow plates raising as Kolyat stood from where his father's body lay to stand beside them.

"I'm not playing games anymore, Udina. At zero five hundred hours yesterday morning the Citadel Defense Fleet received orders to move to a point above the Serpent Nebula to engage a possible Reaper threat," Shepard said icily. "Those orders came directly from the office of the Council."

Udina threw up his hands. "Now you're accusing us with colluding with Cerberus? Your audacity knows no bounds, Shepard!"

The Spectre raised one armored fist, first to gesture at the rachni and then to point at the other man.

"Not 'us'. You. My new friends aren't just soldiers. They're telepaths, every rachni hears what they call the song of the people near them. And now that I've got you all off balance, tense, afraid... do you know what they're telling me about your song, Councilor?"

Previously unheard aside from their initial outburst the rachni's music flooded into their minds once more, both of the warriors at Shepard's side seeming to speak at once.

_Discordant notes!_

_Treachery-singer._

_Blacks and yellows, twisted and dark!_

The other Councilors were looking even more confused now, casting worried glances at the human among them. Udina was a career politician. He had worked his way to one of most influential positions among humanity by knowing how to dissemble, say the right thing, and smile even when he couldn't stand the people that he met.

Garrus felt his mandibles twitch in dark amusement. It seemed you couldn't just put on a smile with the rachni around. Such an obvious breach of privacy should rankle his turian sensibilities. But all he could feel at the moment was grim satisfaction.

"You... you can't be serious," the man stammered now.

"I am. The worst part is I didn't want it to be true," Shepard replied. "I wanted to think that despite everything that you really had humanity's best interests at heart. That in our darkest hour everyone of us would be our best."

Something changed in Udina's demeanor. His shoulders slumped faintly and his words no longer had the force they had previously carried.

"This has always been about what's best for humani-"

_Sings-of-Endings!_

The cry of warning came too late as a shot took Udina in the chest. Kai Leng had forced himself into a sitting position and the blast had come from the palm of his undamaged hand. Blood still ran down his chest but the assassin somehow managed to get to his feet.

"Leng!" Shepard roared.

Kai Leng sneered at the Spectre and threw himself backwards off the balcony, yelling as he fell.

"This isn't over, Shepard!"

There was a scramble of movement towards the edge. Garrus made it just in time to see the Cerberus agent land heavily on the roof of a Cerberus shuttle. Armored hands pulled Leng inside even as a barrage of fire began to rain down on them, but to little avail. Without heavy weapons they couldn't hope to bring down the shuttle that was already speeding away.

"Dammit!" Shepard cursed.

"I don't understand... we all watched you stab him, no one should have been moving after that kind of blow," Bailey muttered from his position a few feet away.

Miranda spoke up for the first time since they had entered the upper floor. "The Illusive Man has been experimenting with cybernetics for years. I hadn't realized just how far he had gone until now... I should have warned you, Shepard. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," the human Spectre responded immediately. "I shouldn't have given that bastard even a chance to survive. To escape justice."

Garrus reached out and gripped his friend's armored shoulder. He didn't disappear like an apparition, the hard plates beneath his hand were solid and real.

"He didn't escape, Shepard. He just delayed the inevitable. Next time..."

Shepard turned his head and gave the turian a grim smile as he trailed off.

"Next time we kill him."

There were plenty of questions that needed to be asked. Important ones. Garrus knew things would never be quite 'normal' again, but for next few minutes they didn't matter. He flashed the human a tight smile.

"It's good to have you back."

It didn't take long for more C-Sec agents to arrive but by then any crisis had long since passed. The Council was quickly escorted away to a safer location. Bailey instructed the medical teams that followed soon after to remove Thane's body with great care and Kolyat accompanied them after a brief conversation with Shepard.

"I never expected to see you come back from the dead again, Shepard, even if I was involved in making it happen the first time around," Miranda said. "If I didn't know better I would think that this was some sort of elaborate plan between you and Vakarian."

There was only a small group of them left now, seven in all if Garrus counted the two rachni that were shuffling around the room. The creatures had gotten wary looks from the C-Sec agents and the Council but Shepard seemed to barely notice their presence.

"There wasn't a plan that I was made aware of," he interjected, a slight edge in his voice.

Shepard grimaced. "There wasn't one. I wasn't planning on coming back from the dead this time either."

The operative arched one dark eyebrow. "Yet here you stand."

"I'm wondering about that myself, Shepard," Ashley added. "I know we've had our problems but... what the hell?"

"It's a... long story. A complicated one that is going to need a lot of explanation since the Council apparently announced my death even. The Citadel is going to be in chaos for the near future and the Normandy should be docking soon. You're both welcome aboard."

The soldier spoke first, her tone wry. "I'm surprised at the offer considering that we were on opposite sides of a gun a few minutes ago."

"You're always welcome on the Normandy... whether you trust me or not is on you. I can't spend time trying to prove what I am anymore."

"No more second guessing, Skipper... not by me at least."

He gave a tired smile.

"If we're being honest I... don't have anywhere else to go," Miranda said, the look on her face speaking volumes. "Getting to the Citadel as quickly as I did burned through plenty of resources and if the Illusive Man didn't want me dead before he certainly does now."

Miranda had likely been one of his least favorite people aboard the Normandy when Garrus had first come aboard. The superiority, the cold disregard for the lives of others... but now he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the woman. She had proven that when the time to make a decision was at hand, her loyalty was in the right place. As proud as the former Cerberus operative was it couldn't have been easy to admit that she was vulnerable.

"The offer is the same, Miranda. Things might have changed but there will always be a place on the Normandy if you want it."

The woman nodded.

"Would you two mind escorting my new friends to the Normandy on the way? Between the four of you, I doubt you'd have any trouble getting to the docking ring."

"Great. Giant bugs. Couldn't be krogan... I got used to krogan," Ashley muttered.

Rachni song in his mind was apparently heard by everyone as Tali jolted. It was the one that he'd heard Shepard call 'Twilight'.

_Our songs are far more peaceful than those of the survival-singers, Iron-Singer, unless we are threatened. Sings-Memories notes were quite loud and fierce, as were the memory-songs of his ancestors._

"I'm not going to pretend to understand all of that," Williams replied and glanced to her right, frowning. "I don't think you guys are both going to fit in the elevator even as big as it is, though..."

_We will sing climbing-songs and follow you to the area of the hive station below!_ The other rachni said.

"We should get moving. The longer we wait the more likely it is that C-Sec will get organized and start asking awkward questions," Miranda suggested.

Garrus chuckled. "You're in a room full of Spectres. Red tape and awkward questions suddenly became a lot less of a problem for you."

"True, but she has a point. I'd rather avoid it entirely," Ashley said and gestured to the two rachni. "Come on, uh, guys?"

_We are of the male gender_, the calmer sounding of the rachni confirmed and moved towards the ledge.

The turian rubbed his fringe and sighed as the elevator doors closed behind the two women. Each time he thought that his life had finally reached its strangest point the universe had seen fit to mock him and up the ante. The only real benefit was that sometimes those strange occurrences worked out for the greater good.

With the rachni and the other two women gone it left just the three of them now, standing in awkward silence. Tali hadn't spoken a word since Shepard had removed his mask and for the first time since his dramatic entrance the human looked less than in complete control of the situation. Garrus shook his head. Leave it to Shepard to have a plan to stop a Cerberus coup but not how to say hello to his two oldest friends after yet another miraculous resurrection.

It didn't help that there was a question that hung in the air that needed to be asked, but none of them wanted to voice it. Finally Garrus sighed and broke the silence.

"There's only one question that matters to me, Shepard... you said you wouldn't go down the same path as Saren. We both knew what you meant. So tell me, are you really back? Not just in body, but in spirit?"

Shepard's face twisted into an expression of distaste.

"You can say the word, Garrus. Indoctrinated."

"I was... being tactful," he said lamely.

"You haven't been tactful since the day we met. No reason to start now, old friend," the human Spectre said with a tired smile.

He shrugged and looked over the railing. "Then let's have it. People don't just get over being Indoctrinated, Shepard."

"You're right, they don't."

Garrus' head snapped back towards the man and he could see Tali visibly stiffen. The human Spectre had turned and leaned against the same rail, not looking at either of them. His voice was tight as he continued.

"You can't cure it. There's no secret rachni technique to undo what's already been done. All of this hardware that Cerberus used to bring me back... they barely understood it. It might not be pure Reaper technology but it's close," Shepard said. "As long as Harbinger or whatever controls the Reapers is out there, they'll always have a line to me."

Before he could voice his concern Tali had interrupted, speaking for the first time with an odd combination of anger and trepidation.

"Dammit, John, what are you saying?"

The sigh that left the human's lips spoke of a sort of bone weariness that Garrus could identify with all too well, but when he turned to face them the Spectre was clearly doing his best not to show it.

"Hope-Singer couldn't protect me like she could another rachni without the possibility of damaging my mind. Instead she helped me confront what had been living in my head for... too long. All ghosts, old pains that the Reapers used to manipulate me. I can't completely block them, but I can see them for what they are now."

"You're telling me that you're just supposed to out-stubborn the Reapers?" Garrus asked.

Shepard's smile was rueful.

"It's all I've got. What I saw... it's hard to explain, but I was able to deny them. I won't let them win. I've made too many promises to give up now."

The turian saw the look in his friend's eyes as he spoke, the way his gaze drifted to Tali. From anyone else the answer would have seemed ludicrous... but this was Shepard. They'd come this far believing that he could do anything. Garrus wasn't about to stop now. He was certain there would be another long talk in their future, but for now he suspected there were things that needed to be said without him present.

"It's good enough for me, Boss."

"I'm not the boss anymore, Garrus. You're a Spectre now. And as much as you don't need one more burden... you're the one that has to make the hard decision if you ever think I've slipped."

He nodded once and turned towards the elevator, pausing just before he stepped inside to look over his shoulder with a turian smirk.

"I had a good teacher when it came to hard decisions... Shepard."

* * *

><p>Tali fidgeted in the heavy silence that followed Garrus' departure. She understood that the turian had known that there were things that neither would be comfortable saying in his presence, no matter how close the three of them were. The problem was she couldn't seem to find the words to express the feelings that roiled inside her, whenever she was about to speak they slipped away like an oil slicked tool she couldn't get a grip on.<p>

The fact that Shepard seemed no better off didn't assuage her confusion. Just his presence was making the sound of her own heartbeat loud in her ears. This was the man that she had been mourning the day before, plagued by memories of the first time she'd felt that same pain. Only to quickly realize that it was worse the second time when she understood the full extent of what she had lost. That part wanted to scream at him, hit him even, and demand to know if the man understood the pain he'd put her through.

It was Shepard that finally broke the silence, turning towards her but not coming any closer.

"After I told Garrus to leave on Utukku... I was ready to die. I'd accepted it. Not because I wanted to, but because it felt like I had no other choice."

"No other choice?" she snapped, suddenly able to speak as one emotion won out over the others. Tali took a step towards him, fists balled angrily at her sides. "You could have said something! Anything!"

"No, I couldn't. Everything was falling apart for me, Tali. I know you probably can't believe me after what's happened between us but I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted nothing more than to tell you everything. To... to reach out for you like we were back on Illium and none of this had ever happened."

Shepard's voice was laced with regret and pain, the lines on his face showing all of it through the facade that he usually kept carefully in place. As much as she wanted to cling to the righteous anger that was in her chest, so simple and easy to understand, her voice was softer when she spoke.

"Did you think I would pull away?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I was too afraid to find out if you would or not," he answered slowly, as if each word was exacting a physical toll on him. "And even if I had the courage to try... I couldn't risk it. When I looked at you all I could see were... were visions. Pain and death, all by my hand."

She shook her head vehemently. Kasumi had told her of Garrus' revelation. Of any of the crew she was one of the most aware of what indoctrination could do after experiencing the barest taste of it after their time aboard the derelict Reaper. The idea of Shepard hurting her, though, even under the influence of an outside force? It didn't even begin to make sense.

"No. I know you..."

"They showed me your death every night, Tali! And then even when I was awake," he said, cutting her off sharply. "It wasn't just an image. I could hear you begging me 'Why... why?' and I could smell the blood. Every day that passed I felt like I was sinking a little deeper into an abyss that I couldn't climb out of, but I just kept going."

Shepard looked away, voice thick as he continued.

"I wanted to call you in those last moments just to hear your voice. But I couldn't do that to you. All I could hope is that you'd forgive me someday and understand why I did it. Everything I did, misguided or not, was to try and protect you. Maybe it can never be the same between us again. I... I understand that..."

The quarian crossed the short distance between them in a rush, colliding with him with enough force to make the much larger man shift his stance to take the impact. Tali felt the sharp edges of his armor digging into her but ignored them, wrapping her arms around his waist. The crack in the normally unshakeable human's voice finally drew a small sob from her own lips.

"You stupid... stupid_ bosh'tet_," the quarian stammered through the visor that was pressed against the his chest. "It doesn't m-matter how angry I am, don't you get it? You're alive. You're alive..."

At last she felt some of the tension leave Shepard's body. His arms wrapped around her a moment later and Tali felt his head come to rest atop her veil, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

"It was the image of you that finally brought me back. I saw all the people I left behind, the things left undone," he said, barely a whisper. "I remembered the first time I saw your face. The promise I made. The thought of breaking that promise was the last push I needed to finally drag myself out of hell."

Tali couldn't formulate a response at first, just holding on as he squeezed her tightly. Mentally she kicked herself for crying, but for once at least they were tears of relief instead of sorrow. As the minutes passed she noted that Shepard's grip was almost as tight as hers, as if he was afraid that if he let go she would disappear.

"I wanted to hate you for leaving me behind," the quarian finally replied.

Pain flashed across his face, but Shepard nodded.

"I would have understood. When we defeated the Collectors and the Shadow Broker I felt like everything was finally going right. But after Bahak... everything just started to fall apart."

"You didn't let me finish," she said, reaching up to touch the side of his face with one hand.

A brief moment of anger at her suit surged through her. It was a familiar emotion. She wanted to feel the skin beneath her fingertips, the stubble that lined Shepard's face and even the faded scars that crossed it. That old pain was overshadowed by the simple fact that he was there to touch at all, alive and strong. Her suit might have denied her the full sensation, but she would happily accept it over nothing at all.

"I said I wanted to hate you. And I was so angry at you when I returned to the fleet. After all the things you said, the promises you made, the idea that you would just leave me behind was infuriating," Tali explained. "Then you finally come back into my life after six long months. Just like always you didn't even hesitate to try and fix every problem you could find."

At this he finally smiled. "You did call me, what was it... a _baelen'sor_?"

"Of course you would remember that too. I think I meant it more affectionately than when Miranda said you had a 'white knight' complex, though," she agreed, tapping his chest lightly with the same hand. "You're distracting me!"

"It always worked before. You don't have to explain yourself to me, Tali. If I had come back and you told me that it was over, that you never wanted to see my face again..." he trailed off and she felt a faint shiver run through him before he continued. "I would have deserved it."

Her voice was suddenly firm when she spoke and Tali rapped her fingers hard on his armored chest.

"No. You don't deserve the blame for all the things that have happened in your life, John. That's what we've always tried to make you see, but you just kept going. You take responsibility for everything until the weight is crushing you... you can't do it anymore, you can't take responsibility for an entire war. I won't let you!"

Shepard looked more than a little surprised by her sudden assertiveness, but she continued on before he could object.

"What I was trying to tell you was that despite how angry and confused I was by how you pushed me away... sitting in your cabin after we left you on that damned planet all I could think of was how I would give anything, anything in the universe to look up and see you walk through those doors. I realized that no matter how mad I was it didn't matter. I need my... my _hesh'la_. I've spent so long feeling alone in a crowd... I never want to feel that way again."

Her voice had become far less assured by the end, but it apparently didn't matter. The human had taken the hand that rested on his chest and brought it to his lips, holding it there for a moment as he met her eyes. Tali was just able to feel the heat of his breath through the surface of her suit and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"I don't know what will happen by the time this war is over, Tali, but you need to know that I will never stop fighting to keep my promises. We've lost too many good people... too many friends for me to do anything less."

"You won't," she said, giving him a faint smile even though she knew he couldn't see it. "You've always tried to do too much. Just make me a new promise... promise me that you won't push me away again. You can't do everything alone. Whatever happens, even if we lose... I want to be there too."

Shepard smiled and he kissed her fingers once more.

"Your _hesh'la_ promises. All that and more."

* * *

><p>No one got in Garrus Vakarian's way as he moved through the crowded elevators and hallways of the Citadel. As people had a tendency to do once the immediate crisis had passed most of the civilians had begun to emerge from their homes and offices. After an entire day huddled in fear he couldn't exactly blame them.<p>

Maybe it was the look in his eyes, the way he moved. The rifle on his back and pistol at his hip likely didn't hurt either. But either way he definitely didn't have any problems getting from place to place. On pure reflex he scanned faces and checked entrances and exits, but his thoughts were otherwise occupied.

Shepard was alive. As revelations for the day went, that was the best one since the last time it had happened. He hadn't been surrounded by angry mercenaries this time, but the sense of relief was the same. Far less comforting was the other mirror to the situation on Omega. A dozen C-Sec officers dead during their day long defense of the Presidium Commons. And Kasumi slowly drifting away. Which led him to his current half run through the Citadel's streets.

"What do you mean you don't know where she is?" Garrus snarled.

"I didn't say that," Bailey stressed on the other end of the line. "We got her to Huerta Memorial, but every hospital on the Citadel is a confused mess right now. They were already strained by the casualties from the war."

"That does help me, I'm almost there. Did you get a physician's name, anything? Dammit, Bailey, how do we know she's even still there?"

"With the chance of Cerberus holdouts still around the station they wouldn't take the risk to move anyone. She's there."

The turian ground his sharp teeth. "Now I just have to find her. I hate hospitals. They make C-Sec look like a fast and loose organization. Are you family? What's your relation? A million little rules and regulations."

There was a short laugh on the other end of the line.

"Vakarian, I know it's only been a day but did you forget that you're a Spectre now?"

His mandibles perked up as the thought registered in his tired mind.

"You have a point. Thanks, Bailey."

As predicted Huerta Memorial was organized chaos. Nurses and attendants were even dealing with some patients on gurneys in the lobby but it didn't look quite as bad as he had feared. With renewed purpose Garrus approached the front desk and rapped his talons against the hard surface. The asari woman manning the terminal looked up.

"Can I help you? If your condition is non-emergency I'd recommend La Croix five levels down. We are currently at capacity."

The turian blinked and glanced down, noticing that there were streaks of blood on his armor, most dark and dried by now. Most of it wasn't his own.

"I'm not a patient, I'm looking for one. She was brought in by Commander Armando Bailey... maybe over an hour ago. Kasumi Goto."

"Records do not show anyone admitted under that name. Maybe if-"

"Female, human. Japanese-Asian ancestry. Approximately fifty five kilograms. One hundred fifty eight centimeters in height. Black hair, facial tattoo on her lower lip. Suffered a wound to her lower abdomen, right side, six point one centimeters in length along with secondary bruising and minor lacerations due to an explosive blast."

It was the asari's turn to look surprised, but seeing his unwavering stare she quickly began to type. A second later she looked back to him.

"I... do have someone matching that description that was registered in the system. What is your relation to the patient? She's in the surgery ward it looks like but I can't give any more information-"

"Spectre."

"Excuse me?"

His omni-tool sprang to life and he tapped it once, sending a burst of data to the asari's terminal.

"My relationship is 'I'm a Spectre'. Now where the hell is she?" Garrus demanded flatly.

A few more stammered sentences of confusion had given way to compliance and he was on the move again. All around him he saw the results of Cerberus' assault, compounding the already poor situation brought on by the staggering casualties as a result of the war. Doctors were scrambling frantically from place to place. He should have felt bad about using his authority to bypass regulations. He didn't.

He arrived at the designated floor quickly, scanning for anyone that looked familiar. Unfortunately in a place as large as Huerta Memorial the surgery ward took up an entire floor of its own between operating rooms, recovery areas, and numerous other necessary facilities. Garrus could feel his talon flexing in frustration when he caught a familiar scent and spun on his heel. A turian doctor passed by, tiny flecks of red blood on his scrubs. Beneath the blood and medical antiseptics he could smell the barest hint of cherry and various other unique scents that would escape a human's notice.

"You. Doctor!"

The other turian turned to look at him, an older male in yellow face paint.

"Yes?"

"Did you operate on a human patient recently? Female, dark hair. Abdominal wound?"

"I can't discuss patients with just anyone that finds their way to the surgery ward. This is a restricted part of the hospital."

"Just answer the damn question. I need to find her."

The doctor bristled but jerked his head for Garrus to follow, glancing down at the pistol on his hip.

"Fine. I don't know who you are, but this way. What is your relationship to the human?"

"Same as I told the girl at the front, I'm a Spectre. My relationship is that I don't care about your regulations," he snapped back. "How is she?"

"A turian Spectre asking after a human?" the doctor commented. "Is she a criminal? I can alert hospital security."

"She's not a criminal, she's a friend."

The other turian frowned. "I didn't realize Spectres used their powers for such petty abuses. A turian asking after a human as a friend is even odder. How did you know I had operated on her? She's only been here for an hour."

Garrus wasn't in the mood for pleasant conversation, but did his best to keep his temper under control as they walked. His answers were clipped, but at least another turian wouldn't find it as rude as one of the other species.

"She wears a perfume. It's very light, supposed to be a flowering tree from Earth called a cherry. I recognized her scent on you along with the perfume. Now tell me about her condition. Is she alright?"

"I see. I didn't realize you were... one of those," the turian doctor said darkly. "Spectre or not I resent patching up bedroom accidents in the middle of a crisis. Whatever perver-"

Any offensive diatribe the doctor had been going to continue with was cut off when Garrus whirled on him with amazing speed, wrapped a hand around the older turian's cowl, and slammed him into the nearest wall with a deep throated snarl.

"I do not give a damn about your opinions on anything, you backwater colonial fuck, other than on the current medical status of the woman you operated on!" he roared, tightening his grip. "Do I make myself clear? If not, I have plenty more petty abuses of power I can get into starting with removed your face-plates with my talons!"

"Y-Yes," the older man stammered. "She had internal bleeding from a puncture wound. I was able t-to repair the damage but she had significant blood loss. We gave her a transfusion of what little we had! Her vitals were weak but the p-p-prognosis is good. She's resting just down the hall! Room T-Twelve B!"

He released the man's cowl and let him slump to the ground.

"Much better," Garrus ordered. "That woman is part of the reason the people on this station are still alive. If you have a problem, take it up with the Council but I'd recommend keeping your opinion to yourself. I'm not the only Spectre that calls her a friend."

Leaving the frightened doctor behind he stalked down the hall, finally locating the room that had been indicated. With a shaky hand Garrus hit the door controls and stepped inside. The room was fairly dim but he could easily see the slim human form resting in the bed. Her eyes fluttered open at his entrance.

"Garrus?" she whispered. "Is that you? I thought... I heard something outside."

He grinned broadly, relief immediately replacing the anger that had been flooding through his veins. He hadn't regained one friend only to lose another. Especially one that the turian was just coming to realize had wormed her way into his life far more deeply than he'd ever expected.

"It was nothing, Kasumi. Nothing at all."

* * *

><p>Kai Leng's head was buzzing but he didn't know if it was feedback from the cybernetics or the drugs that he'd taken. Slumped in the seat of the shuttle he held his ruined hand against his side to keep the pressure bandage in place. The only reason he hadn't bled out was due to the experimental synthetic weaves that Cerberus had grafted into his skin and muscles. Normally they should have been strong enough to withstand a blade but whatever Shepard had used at torn into him like it was nothing. The cybernetics had simply been able to stop the bleeding.<p>

None of it made any sense. Every shred of evidence had said that Shepard was dead. Then out of nowhere the man had appeared, ambushing him and completely derailing his mission. The failure would have been bad enough, but it was only compounded by his quick and brutal defeat at the Spectre's hands.

"Get... the Illusive Man... on the line," Leng ordered through gritted teeth.

The trooper answered with an affirmative in the monotone voice he had come to expect out of them when they weren't in combat. Leng was in one of the few shuttles that had escaped, thankfully enough planning had taken place to have a few of the stealth equipped Kodiak shuttles available. None of the largest warships had escaped the rachni's wrath but some of the shuttles, like the one he was one, had evaded pursuit.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity a small holographic image of the Illusive Man appeared on the screen in front of Leng. The detail was low but he could still man out the scowl on the man's face.

"Leng, what the hell happened? My last reports showed our ships under attack before they were cut off!"

"Commander Shepard," the assassin grunted. "He's... still alive. He was the one leading the rachni."

"Shepard managed to harness the rachni? Surprising but not entirely unexpected with his track record so far... and your secondary mission?"

Leng grimaced.

"I was delayed by the drell assassin Krios. Before I could kill him and the Council I was attacked by Commander Shepard. My... left hand his crippled. He was armed with some kind of energy... energy blade I have never encountered. Cybernetics have stopped the bleeding into my chest cavity."

"In other words he beat you," the Illusive Man stated harshly.

"No!" he snarled before dissolving into a wet cough that left his hand stained red. "No... he ambushed me. I wasn't prepared. Next time I'll show him what a real human can do. I'll need the rest of the cybernetic upgrades. I don't want him to have any advantage next time."

His employer blew out a long puff of smoke from one of his ever-present cigarettes.

"We've discussed the risks involved with full scale cybernetic enhancement. Shepard's upgrades were necessary because we had to rebuild him from the ground up. Invasive surgery to do the same to you could take a dramatic toll."

"I don't care. I can handle it."

"We'll see. This is a significant setback, but it doesn't change our goal. It does make it harder to accomplish in the future, but we'll have to deal with that when the time comes. You'll get your upgrades, Leng, and when you've recovered I have a new mission waiting for you. I trust you won't fail me again?"

His one good hand balled into a tight fist. The fact that his ability to complete his mission was being called into question by the Illusive Man only made his anger roar louder. Shepard and his band of alien pets would pay in due time even if he had to kill everyone one of them himself. The man was a blight on the human race. One that needed to be removed.

"I won't. When we meet again I'll make sure that Shepard dies... permanently."

* * *

><p>Everyone had heard, of course, but not everyone had seen it for themselves. Rumors spread fast aboard a ship, aboard a station, even across a galaxy thanks to the wonders of modern communications. Commander Shepard had returned from the dead once again to strike down Cerberus with an army of rachni at his back. He'd already seen a news feed from Westerlund News, of all sources, calling him by a new title: the Spectre of Vengeance.<p>

The Council had predictably wanted him to give an address from the main audience hall. They'd said it would grant an appearance of stability in the aftermath of Cerberus' devastating attack and help quell any continuing rumors of his death. Despite his better judgment Shepard had agreed. The situation in the galaxy had been continuing to deteriorate as the war continued, mounting losses creating a palpable aura of fear and despair. If saying a few words in front of the cameras could help stem that tide then it would be worth it.

What he hadn't done was follow the Council's carefully orchestrated plan. Instead of standing on the lower audience platform with the Council behind and above him Shepard had stepped out onto the Councilor's dais. They might not have liked the change but there wasn't much they could do about it considering he was the only reason they were still alive... and he was flanked by the same pair of large rachni warriors that had been with him before.

"Commander... most irregular," Velarn said quietly as the human Spectre approached, stepping away from his traditional spot in the Council line up.

"These are irregular times. I'm aware of the impression you're trying to give, Councilors. That you're still in control. That the status quo has been maintained."

"Stability is important," Sparatus agreed. "We can't afford a panic."

Shepard let his gaze drift across the three of them.

"Cerberus attacked this station. Many of our homeworlds are under direct assault by the Reapers. The status quo is over. The sooner each of you realize that, the better our chances will be. We're not playing by the rules anymore. Stand behind me or stand beside me. But I'm not following anyone's orders anymore."

Without another word the Spectre moved past them and stepped into the sudden brilliance that bathed the front of the dais. Below he could see dozens of reporters and their hovering holocams, many looking worse for the wear but diligently on the job. Near the front he saw a familiar face from the past in the crowd when Emily Wong flashed him a smile and a wave. There was a bandage wrapped around one of her hands but otherwise the reporter looked downright gleeful. Many of the others didn't look nearly so enthusiastic as they took him in.

Shepard knew what they saw. In the bright lights of the Council chamber his black armor gleamed as he stood there, once more back from the dead. Behind him he heard the shuffling of feet and glanced back to see the Council had clearly made their decision, taking a place just to the side and behind him, while the pair of rachni occupied the other side. He smiled and turned his attention to the gathered crowd, beginning to speak.

"I'm sure that you all have questions. Unfortunately, I don't have time to answer them all. I will state it clearly once for the record: I am Commander John Shepard, Human Spectre, Commanding Officer of the SSV Normandy. This is no trick. There are no games being played. Two years ago I was pronounced killed in action over Alchera. Less than twenty four hours ago you were all listening to a report of my death on Utukku."

He widened his stance and placed his hands on the railing.

"I'm here to tell you that I am very much alive. I'm alive because my mission is not complete. When I became a Spectre I swore to protect this galaxy from those that would threaten it. The greatest of those threats that will ever face the people that populate this galaxy is already here. The Reapers."

A murmur went up throughout the crowd, frightened whispers and angry muttering. Shepard held up a hand.

"When I look into the eyes of the people standing out there I see fear. Fear that we can't win this fight. The same fear, the same dread that I felt when I saw my homeworld engulfed in flames," the Spectre stated calmly. "We look at the Reapers and we see something larger and more powerful than we ever imagined. Some say that they can't be defeated."

There was a momentary lull in the chatter before it picked up again. Alone a person was usually reasonable. But in a group they were prone to panic, letting themselves be caught up in the emotion of the mob. He had been seeing the frayed edges for weeks even among his own crew. The Citadel itself had been so far unscathed, but now with Cerberus' assault he could sense the growing feeling of panic. Before the buzz could become a roar he slammed his fist down on the metal railing.

"Those people are wrong! Three years ago Sovereign was destroyed here by the combined might of the Citadel fleet and the Systems Alliance! On Tuchanka I watched a Reaper being torn to pieces by nothing less than a thresher maw! For thousands of years the Reapers have repeated their cycle, but they have never once faced a galaxy united against them," he declared in a voice that was almost a yell.

"The Reapers will try to break our will. They will create monsters and destroy cities. They will turn others against us, manipulate the weak-willed and the corrupt to carry out their plans. But we cannot let them rule us with fear! Cerberus has struck at our heart, but we showed them that there is still fight left in us all. We will not bow down and accept our fate!"

He didn't try to hide his vicious smile as the murmurs turned to sounds of protest. Not of discontent, but of anger. The human Spectre rested both hands on the railing now and looked out at the crowd.

"My name is Jonathan Shepard. Twice the galaxy has declared me dead, but I still endure. I fight for the future of not just the Council or the Alliance, but for all sapient life in this galaxy. The Reapers think of themselves as gods. They would have us submit to slaughter because they demand it. But I stand before you now to deliver a single message."

Shepard looked directly into Wong's hovering camera.

"I have seen gods die."

* * *

><p><em>See, I told you we'd get here eventually ;)<em>

_So I am still alive, I apologize for the very long wait. Hopefully you lot haven't been too hard hit by the cliffhanger. This is a busy time of the year and I'm going to be out of commission again next weekend but I promise it'll get finished. If this thing stops updating forever then it means I got hit by a bus (but hopefully something cooler).  
><em>

_Maybe this will help sooth the long wait... after my impromptu poll last time our resident artist got an idea since the 'original' RE Tali won by such a handy margin. So now she's been immortalized in art: (as always, delete the spaces and it'll work)  
><em>

_ animemagix . deviantart # / d5kf2me_

_Go take a look at the awesome job AMX did and drop him a line too!  
><em>

_Until next time, thanks for reading!  
><em>

_EDIT TIME: Apparently is possibly the most needlessly obtuse website ever made. The link above will NOT display correctly no matter what I do. So you know what? Here. Goto AMX's main page (you can also find a link on my profile to the images!):  
><em>

_animemagix . deviantart . com_


	23. Chapter 22: Learning Experiences

Chapter 22: Learning Experiences

The Council's private chambers weren't quite as elaborate as Shepard had long suspected, but they were certainly a cut above anything he'd ever seen in the Alliance. Tevos and Valern both sat in padded chairs, while Sparatus remained standing behind his, talons digging into the expensive leather. A large holo-display took up the majority of the west wall.

"I still cannot believe that Udina was so short-sighted," the turian Councilor sighed.

"I had EDI break into any files that were left," Shepard said, ignoring the flinch from Tevos and Velarn at the mention of the AI. "From what little we can piece together, he had some idea that Cerberus gaining control over the Citadel would save Earth. Whether that was an idea the Illusive Man planted in his head or his own delusion, we'll never know."

"Considering the current state of the galaxy, it will be difficult to replace humanity's Councilor," Valern added.

Shepard moved to lean against one of the numerous desks that lined the opposite wall, likely used by any number of assistants or attaches to do whatever work the Council required when they were rarely together.

"Then don't," he said simply.

"Then it would appear as if we were ejecting your species from the Council as retaliation for the Cerberus attack," Tevos cautioned. "The people - "

"_The people_ are worried about being killed by a race of synthetic warships from dark space," the Spectre snapped, then turned to the only other individual in the room. "Is everything set up?"

Legion's glowing optic bobbed once.

"All connections have been established, Shepard-Commander. Quantum entanglement data and all other uplinks are being routed through the Normandy directly to the Council terminal. Should we activate the link?"

"Do it."

With a twitch of its flaps, the geth platform did as requested and tapped quickly at the terminal controls. There was a barely-perceptible delay before the large holo-display blinked to life with four separate images standing side by side: Wrex, Admiral Hackett, Anderson, and Primarch Victus. His old mentor was the first to speak.

"Shepard. A day ago I got the worst message of my life... for the second time. Now here I am looking at you again. I don't know how you do it, son, but I'm glad it didn't take two years this time."

"That makes two of us, sir," he replied with a smile.

"You're starting to get a reputation on Tuchanka, Shepard," Wrex interjected, his characteristic deep chuckle reverberating through the room. "One of our younger warriors said that krogan might have two hearts, but no krogan can ever claim to have had three lives."

Victus nodded.

"I never thought I'd be agreeing with a krogan, but it's good to see you in one piece. The reports we're getting show that Cerberus' forces have also been completely evicted from the Citadel?"

"A small number that were cut off have taken up defensive positions in some of the industrial districts, but C-Sec has them locked down. They can't do much damage there and it's only a matter of time before we can root them out. The rachni are proving to be... brutally efficient at such actions," Sparatus answered in his place.

Crossing his arms and leaning back a little further, Shepard did his best to keep his tone neutral.

"I seem to recall someone questioning my decision to free the rachni on Noveria. Looks like unleashing the rachni on the galaxy didn't turn out so badly after all."

Sparatus gave him a sour look.

"I told you that turians own their mistakes, Shepard, but we don't obsess over them either."

"I've just been waiting a good two years to say that. This seemed like the only chance I was going to get," the human said, shrugging.

"It's good to see that your return to life has also signaled the return of your flippant attitude."

"Only when it comes to the past," Shepard assured the annoyed turian before looking back at the holograms of their small alliance's leaders. "I've arranged this meeting because we need to talk about what comes next."

Hackett raised a hand to stroke his beard thoughtfully.

"The addition of the rachni to our forces will be a welcome boon. From the sound of it, their ground forces could give us an advantage we'd never thought possible: numbers. Not to mention their ships. No one has been able to explain to me how they managed to disable or destroy that many Cerberus cruisers without suffering any casualties of their own."

"Those questions are best addressed to the newest member of this alliance. Legion?"

The geth didn't respond audibly, instead simply setting up a separate holo-projector that had been brought from the Normandy. It hadn't been an easy task, but they'd managed to put something together in short order. A hazy image finally came into view: Hope-Singer's massive head. The visual elicited a few sounds of surprise from his audience, only amplified when the chamber doors opened to admit a familiar pair of brood warriors.

"Councilors, gentlemen. Wrex," Shepard said dryly. "I'd like you to meet Hope-Singer, eldest queen of the rachni. These are her representatives and brood warriors: Sings-Twilight-Among-Broken-Stars and Sings-Fury-of-New-Life."

Each of the brood warriors was carrying a large crystal like those he'd seen aboard the rachni warriors scuttled over and carefully placed them in the makeshift slots that had been installed near the base of the holo-projector. He could only hope their workaround actually served its purpose.

_We sing songs of greetings and peace. In the language of your songs__, I am__ Hope-Singer, eldest remaining queen of the rachni. The heart-songs of those on the devices of light and sound cannot be heard, but __I__ offer you greetings as well._

The two brood warriors had gone stock still as the queen's song flooded the senses of everyone in the room. It took him a moment to realize that he had also actually heard the words with his ears, not just in his mind. Such a method of communication confused the queen, but he'd explained that the others would understand even without being able to hear the 'colors' of her song.

"I'll be damned," Hackett muttered and Victus seemed to share the sentiment, nodding his head.

"Goddess... I've never felt anything like this," Tevos whispered. "Even the embrace of a matriarch doesn't carry the same power. I only hope your trust is well placed commander."

Shepard smirked. "And you're getting it second hand, Councilor, since it seems she's speaking through our friends here."

The asari looked nonplussed. Rachni had no sense of conversational norms, however, and the queen continued on unabated.

_The rachni honor the promise given to Sings-of-Endings. We will fight the dark-song destroyers._

"Sings-of..." Sparatus began.

"The logical assumption is that the rachni queen refers to Commander Shepard, as he is the one that spared her life," the salarian Councilor answered before his turian counterpart could even complete the question. "Rather melodramatic, don't you think, Commander?

"The rachni give names, not ask for them, Councilor. I didn't exactly pick it out."

_We hear the song within, just as these warriors heard the songs of deception and fear within the treachery-singer. All living things have a song within them, __and__ some are louder than others. Sings-of-Endings' is the loudest of all of those we have heard._

"One day you're going to run into a species that doesn't give you a fancy title, Shepard," Wrex added with dark amusement. "I hope I'm still alive to see it. Can't say I was thrilled with sparing you bunch of bugs, but at least you're on our side after all."

"Not to sound ungrateful, but I'm not sure how we're supposed to integrate a species that doesn't use verbal communication into our forces," Victus said, spreading his hands. "The ferocity of the rachni is well documented, but how are we supposed to direct it?"

_Our song is not yours to command, predator-singer. We are not under the sway of the sour yellow notes that warped the thoughts of our mothers, vicious and unrestrained. We will not be used as the protheans used us, as thoughtless weapons._

It was the first time Shepard had felt a hint of anger or resentment from the queen since encountering her on Noveria and the caves beneath Utukku. Clearly the 'memory-songs' she spoke of went very far back indeed. Victus couldn't see the flash of colors that washed over the minds of those in attendance, but apparently the audible words just from their kitbashed communications device carried enough of the feeling that the turian raised his hands in apology.

"I didn't mean to imply such, Hope-Singer," the turian added quickly.

_Our forces will ultimately answer only to Sings-of-Endings. We have watched the galaxy since we were free of the __ice planet__. The wander-singers, the predator-singers... you are all fractured hives, warring within yourselves. Sings-of-Endings does not share your conflicts. It is his guidance we will follow._

The Council didn't look extremely thrilled at the statement and even Hackett had arched an eyebrow. Wrex and Anderson both appeared to be the outliers, completely unfazed by the fact that what amounted to the military of an entire species had just thrown in behind a man at least a dozen intelligence reports had described as a 'dangerous loose canon'.

"I believe what matters is that we find a way to win this war. It doesn't matter who gets the biggest hat," Anderson said in the silence that followed.

He gave the older man a slight nod.

"Speaking of the war... what's the status of Earth?"

"Messy, but we're holding on with everything we've got," Anderson replied. "The devastation is... hard to look at and we've been forced out of most of the major cities. Internment camps have been set up within every major population center. Reaper patrols herd more people into them every day. No one ever comes out again."

Every year of his age showed in that moment when Shepard's former CO took off his hat and rubbed some of the dirt from beneath his eyes. Longevity treatments could keep a man nearing fifty in the fighting shape of a soldier a decade or more his junior, but experience wore the same as it always did, like a stone being shaped by the river flowing around it. Victus' hologram sighed and sent the human a look of sympathy.

"Palaven is faring both better and worse. The Reapers seem far less interested in harvesting turians, and have bombarded the surface far more heavily than they have on Earth by all reports. For the first time in this war, however, I have some good news. Just before your dramatic return, Commander, I received word that a daring joint operation by krogan and turian ground forces on Palaven was successful."

"Any victory is welcome, Primarch, but we have been cut off here since Cerberus' assault," Tevos agreed.

"It was glorious," Wrex interjected with a toothy grin. "We taught them that the only thing scarier than a planet full of krogan is a planet full of krogan _and_ turians."

The Primarch actually returned the pleased expression, though he sobered before continuing.

"The price was high, but we were able to smuggle a large number of weapons from the krogan stockpiles directly into major centers of Reaper occupation... even onto some of the capital ships themselves. Not just conventional ordnance, either - fission and fusion devices, even dark energy bombs."

"Turns out Reapers aren't so tough when a big bomb goes off inside those barriers of theirs. Six of their capital ships in space gone faster than you can slap a varren," Wrex chortled. "As many more on the ground when we detonated one in-atmosphere. Not to mention twice as many of the smaller ships, their processing ships... ground troops."

Sparatus' mandibles widened in shock.

"You detonated dark energy and fission bombs on Palaven's surface? The lasting effects... and the civilian casualties..."

"Estallus had fallen weeks before, Councilor. The city was nothing more than a graveyard that was being used to create more of their monsters and stage attacks on our forces. For those that Reapers had already captured... they were dead no matter what we did," Victus said gravely. "It was deemed an acceptable loss. In a breath we destroyed more of their forces than we have since the war began and actually taken back territory for the first time. The troops are already calling it the 'Miracle at Palaven'."

"I can only assume that the weapons were smuggled aboard the Reaper vessels by volunteers that knew it was a mission that they would not return from. A great sacrifice that should be honored," Valern added, bowing his head slightly.

"One of the generals that gave the go order said it best. 'Whatever they were in life, their deaths had no equal. They are worthy of joining the spirit of Palaven itself'. They will never be forgotten," the Primarch agreed.

Wrex grunted and slammed his fists together.

"They died on their feet, spitting in the eye of their enemy. That's a death worthy of any krogan... or turian. No matter what happens after this the Reapers will remember the fight we gave them."

It was Shepard's turn to smile wolfishly. Momentum. It wouldn't defeat the Reapers on its own, but it would give the people still fighting something to cheer for. Every war that had ever been fought was won and lost by the will of the people fighting it. Yesterday he had told millions that he had seen gods die. Now an entire planet had watched it happen.

"It's not over yet, Wrex. There are plenty of battles left to be fought. The rachni are fighting on our side, and they're not the only allies waiting for us. Councilors, gentlemen... let's talk about Rannoch."

* * *

><p>"You mean they agreed? To everything?"<p>

"Everything. They've given us access to the half-dozen SR-1 class ships that were assigned to the Citadel Defense fleet," Shepard told the visibly excited quarian. "The quarians will be granted an embassy on the Citadel again, effectively immediately. It doesn't mean much considering the state things are in, but..."

Tali shook her head. "It means everything! I just can't believe you were able to get them to part with ships. Especially with Cerberus just having attacked."

"They were much more agreeable when Hope-Singer went along with the idea to have part of the rachni fleet help guard the Citadel."

They were still on the Presidium. Tali had insisted on waiting for him outside the Council chambers despite his half-joking promise not to disappear when she turned her back. Her response had been to fix him with a sharp look and to make it clear that he'd best never disappear again. The portion of the upper Presidium that they now occupied had only been lightly damaged and already Shepard could see keepers repairing damaged panels and clearing debris. Just a few hours since the massive station had been under siege, things were starting to go back to normal once more.

"I can't believe how easily they were able to destroy the Cerberus cruisers. No wonder the Council didn't complain."

He chuckled.

"Oh, they complained a little. They thought that we had won the war for a few minutes when we reviewed the footage of the rachni dreadnoughts in action. They were less happy when Hope-Singer explained that weapons they used couldn't be replicated by the various 'two-legged singers'."

"Why not?" Tali asked. "The turians developed thanix cannons just a few years after Sovereign was defeated. If they let me take a look I'm sure-"

"It's not a matter of technology," the Spectre replied quickly, holding up a hand to forestall the whirlwind of technical speculation that was likely about to be unleashed upon him. "We're just not rachni. What they used weren't even exactly weapons, not in the way we think of them."

If there was one thing that caused Tali's self-effacing tendencies to lapse, it was when her technical expertise was questioned. The quarian in front of him placed her hands on her hips and fixed him with a gaze that demanded an explanation.

"The rachni queens are all biotics. Not just biotics, but biotics on a level that would make an asari like Samara look like barely trained recruits. Hope-Singer didn't really explain if they'd always been biotic or if they had become that way over time, but she did explain that her people utilize specially crafted crystals in much of their technology. The crystals boost their innate telepathic abilities... and if properly prepared can do the same for biotic energy."

Offering an example, Shepard stepped back and extended his hand, focusing his mind until the air around his hand began to shimmer. It took greater concentration now than when he'd confronted Leng; his anger had made it easy to achieve the desired result. After a moment the crackling azure blade formed around his fist once more.

"I knew I'd never seen anything like that before..." the engineer muttered.

"That's because no biotic has the ability to maintain a field this strong. Not even the most powerful asari," he continued. "But they embedded small crystals in the gauntlet of the armor that focus the biotic field and let me do this. It's the same idea with their ships. The big dreadnoughts have the same crystals all through their hulls. When the rachni ships attacked, they didn't really fire a weapon. It was more like Jack throwing out a shockwave... just on a massive scale."

"Which means you need a rachni queen and the focusing crystals to make it work. No rachni queen and no crystals means no shockwave. We can't copy the technology because it isn't just technology, it's also biology."

He couldn't help but smile at the almost petulant disappointment in Tali's voice when she lost the chance to work on the new technological puzzle.

"I'm afraid so. It also means we can't just have the rachni build as many dreadnoughts as possible and defeat the Reapers that way. If they go toe to toe with the rachni, even the Reaper capital ships are in for a nasty surprise - but there are only a dozen of them and while rachni mature quickly, they don't mature _that _quickly. All the current queens were hatched from Hope-Singer's very first hatching and they're barely considered adults."

"So much for that hope."

Tali's shoulders slumped and she moved to lean back against the railing, gaze dropping to the ground. The sudden change in her attitude surprised him. Shepard moved to stand in front of her and placed his hands on her arms, giving her a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I just had this stupid idea that the rachni would solve all of our problems. When they appeared and kicked Cerberus out so easily, it felt like maybe this was it, that we'd finally found a way to end it. That we'd... made it."

"The war isn't over, but we're in a better position than we have been since the Reapers first hit Earth. When we retake your homeworld, that will be one more step in the right direction."

She looked up and a sigh filtered through her helmet's speakers. When she spoke, it was with a mixture of exasperation and fatigue, with not a small hint of fear.

"The dream of every quarian for three hundred years. The majority of the geth in existence, under the Reapers' control, are standing against us - but you'd think it was just another mission the way you talk about it."

"Rannoch is more than just another mission."

"I know, but it doesn't even feel real. At this moment I'm afraid I'm going to wake up from this dream and find out everything is gone. You said it yourself - that the Reapers were trying to control you, but now you're back talking about retaking Rannoch and defeating the Reapers like it's easy..."

Some of the pieces began to fall into place. Two hours to second guess and stress over everything that had happened would have been bad for anyone that had seen what most the crew of the Normandy had seen in the last years. No matter what causes it, when you come down from an emotional high it's easy to start wondering if the other shoe is about to drop. For Tali, with nothing less than her entire people hanging in the balance, it must have been far worse.

"It's not easy," Shepard disagreed quietly. "Nothing is going to be easy from here on out. I can still feel them, in the back of my mind. Like when you see something move out of the corner of your eye or a shadow takes on a different shape in the darkness. But I can face them now."

The eyes shimmering behind her visor seemed to study him for an eternity. Tali's hands reached up and grasped his own, squeezing them tightly and removed them from her shoulders to grip them in front of her.

"I... lost you once when the Normandy was destroyed. And when I lost you again it felt like I was drowning, just trying to keep my head above water. For the entire time that you were meeting with the Council, all I could think of was that it feels like it never ends. Ever since we met we've been fighting; Saren, the geth, the Collectors... now the Reapers..."

"And you're afraid it'll never end?" Shepard concluded.

She shook her head, voice a strained whisper.

"I'm afraid that it will. And that I already know how it ends."

The pain in her voice sent a shiver down his spine, calling forth the same guilt that he'd felt at their brief reunion earlier. Even when Shepard had been struggling against the Reaper's twisted grip he hadn't been able to completely push her away. It seemed no matter what he did, it caused her pain. A part of him thought that a better man would have stepped away lest he drag her further down.

He gritted his teeth and shoved the offending thought away almost as quickly as it came, recognizing the insidiousness of it. Those same doubts unchecked were what had plagued him for so many months. Doubts that had been steadily encouraged by the whispers in the back of his mind. Tali had chosen to stay with him despite everything that had happened before and since. If she could believe in him, the least he could do was live up to that faith.

"No one knows the ending," the human stated firmly. "All we can do is write it ourselves."

"But-"

"No. No 'buts'... no 'what ifs'. We just see it through to the end, wherever that takes us. And we enjoy whatever moments we can get before they're gone. We've come this far. Don't let a few hours alone with your thoughts tear you apart. I know how that happens all too well."

"After what we've been through... a few hours of silence can feel like forever," Tali said, her voice sounding a little stronger as her fingers toyed with his more numerous digits. "But I understand. It's just... hard. We've lost so many."

He sighed and nodded his head sadly. Images of friends departed flashed across his mind's eye. He remembered Kaidan's final words over a static filled comm line, calm even in the face of death; the oddly peaceful smile on Mordin's face as he entered the elevator on Tuchanka; Thane's shuddering final breaths only a few hours before; even Jenkin's foolish bravado, the first casualty in a war that Shepard couldn't even have imagined when this all had began.

"Too many. But that's why we keep fighting. They gave their lives so we could finally put an end to this all."

"Sometimes I still think about trying to convince you to just take the Normandy to some planet where the Reapers might never find us... every time I do, though, I hear Kaidan's voice telling me 'Tali, there's no problem that you can avoid forever'."

"He was a pretty smart guy," Shepard agreed.

"It took a long time for me to realize just how smart. He told me something else once that I'd almost forgotten. Not long before Virmire... we had been talking and he said that 'Sometimes people hesitate to go after the things they want because either they don't think they deserve them, or, if they do get them, that they'll lose them. But if you do that, then you'll never get what you really deserve.'"

The quarian shook her head and gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"At the time I didn't really understand what he meant. But I think of everyone on the crew, even Wrex, he was the first one that figured out what I... thought of you."

"If he was still around I'd kick him for not clueing me in sooner," the human said with a tired smile. "Might have saved us a great deal of trouble when you came aboard the Normandy again."

"He was right, though, and so are you... if all I do is let myself worry about what might happen I'll miss what I already have. I've missed too many things in my life to do that."

"_Carpe diem_."

"What?"

"It's a phrase from a dead language from Earth, one of our oldest ones. It translates as 'seize the day'."

Tali turned her head slightly and he could almost see the smile hidden behind the visor. It was only confirmed when her hands finally released his fingers and slipped around his waist. Her tone became immediately lighter and more playful.

"I like it. You know, I can think of other things that can be... seized too."

His words were careful, but he let his hands glide down the curve of Tali's back as he spoke.

"I didn't want move too fast for you after everything that's happened. If you want to take your time, that's okay."

The quarian pushed herself up on the tips of her toes and tapped her visored face against his forehead. Her voice was breathy even through the synthetic buzz of the helmet speakers.

"_Carpe diem_."

* * *

><p>"I don't suppose appealing to my Spectre authority is going to help?" Shepard asked dryly.<p>

Garrus folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the railing of the war room. The two of them were waiting for the rest of the crew. As soon as he'd returned to the ship, Shepard had ordered a meeting of the entire team. Everyone had seen his speech, but there was a great deal of information to catch up on, not all of it dealing with his return from the grave.

"You're not the only Spectre on this ship anymore."

"If I wasn't here to see it, I wouldn't have believed it... but I think your ego has actually managed to get bigger."

"I think you humans have a saying for this... be careful what you wish for? You're the one that told me to apply for Spectre training, fulfill my potential... the rest of that crap."

"Seems I've created my own spikey-headed monster in this case," Shepard said with a chuckle. "I'll leave the decision up to you. I'm just worried that we're not as good as a full hospital."

The turian snorted.

"Chakwas practically put my face back together with metal and a rough guide to turian physiology. I don't think Kasumi's recovery will be affected, and we both know the safest place in the galaxy right now is this ship. And do you_ really _want to think of the retaliation we both would suffer if we did leave her behind?"

Shepard held up his hands in surrender, flashing his friend a smile; a smile that was genuine, not just a show he put on to keep the crew in better spirits. Despite only having managed an hour or two of sleep since his dramatic return, he felt more alive than he had in months.

"Point taken. I didn't honestly like the idea of leaving anyone behind but I didn't want to drag her further into this if she wanted out," he replied, sobering slightly. "Kasumi isn't a soldier, even if she's been learning to be one ever since she set foot on the Normandy. This doesn't have to be her fight."

"It does. Just like it's my fight. And Tali's. And every other crewmember who's set foot on these deckplates. One way or another we're all here until the end."

He accepted the statement without comment, simply nodding in the direction of his turian friend. There was new conviction in Garrus' voice that brooked no argument. It was an iron that had always been there but clearly had been tempered and forged in just the short time since he'd been left behind on Utukku. That sort of attitude might have worried him three years ago, before the human Spectre had taken command of the Normandy. Now it simply told him that if the time came that he did fall... there would be someone there to see things through without hesitation.

The pair remained in comfortable silence for the remaining few minutes and Shepard let his mind drift for a moment. So many things had changed in just a few short days. He should be tired to his bones, and in truth he could feel fatigue nipping at his heels, but standing there aboard the Normandy he felt a vitality that had escaped him ever since he had returned to Earth. For the first time in what felt like a century, things were going right.

With the rachni as allies they had one more key piece of their fledgling alliance against the Reapers, and now that he was finally free of the unclean influence that had been clinging to his mind, Shepard felt renewed hope. No small part of that renewed feeling had come when Tali had embraced him on the Citadel. Things would likely never be exactly the same as they had been, but maybe it was for the best. All things changed with time.

"I'm going, EDI! Don't you even think of suggesting that you carry me again!"

"This platform possesses more than sufficient physical strength to carry you, Jeff. I see no reason to risk injury to yourself when another option is available."

The door to the war room opened and Joker hobbled in, followed immediately after by the AI's metallic new body.

"There's this thing called dignity, I'd like to keep a shred of it," the pilot complained. "Not sure why I'm here anyways."

"Because you're part of the team, Joker, even if you are its most smart assed part. You get the same information as I'm going to give everyone else," Shepard informed him.

The unshaven man smirked. "Aye aye, sir. Just don't yell at me if I break a leg after I trip over a power conduit or something."

EDI replied with something too low for Shepard to hear and the odd pair of pilot and AI began to whisper in earnest. Most likely another argument, if he had to guess. It didn't take long for the rest of the team to file in one by one, Liara and Tali among the first. The last duo was the most mismatched: Legion opened the door and allowed the bulk of a rachni warrior the scuttle through. Looking at the gathering, he gave a faint smile.

"Some old faces, some new. It's good to see you all," Shepard began. "I've called this meeting because a lot has changed in the past week. Things you need to know..."

* * *

><p>"I'm just saying... even as big as the Normandy is, it seems like we're going to start running out of space really fast, loco," Vega stated with a shrug as the team filed out.<p>

Garrus would have expected more shock and awe considering everything they'd just been told. He hadn't been expecting Shepard to actually tell the entire ground team that he had been suffering from indoctrination. Javik's reaction had been the most visceral, of course, and for a moment he had let his hand drift to the gun at his hip. But they had otherwise all taken the revelations well in stride.

And now their team had grown. Miranda had agreed to stay aboard and they had added another unique addition in the form of one of the two rachni brood warriors that had been shadowing Shepard ever since he'd returned. Apparently the rachni queen had decided that the junior of the pair, Fury as Shepard referred to him, should integrate into the 'Normandy hive'. It had been oddly reminiscent of how Shepard had described Legion requesting to join the crew. Maybe there wasn't all that much difference between the geth consensus and the rachni hive mind in the end.

With Ashley agreeing to join up at least temporarily as well, Vega had a point about space becoming an issue. The turian couldn't really complain, though. It felt right to have more of the old crew back on the ship. Neither Ashley nor Lawson had ever been his closest friends but Garrus still saw them as part of the puzzle that was the Normandy.

"I have actually offered Ms. Lawson joint custody of her old office. It has been altered heavily but it seems the most efficient use of space especially considering neither of us sleep a great deal," Liara interjected. "Besides, another set of eyes going over the data I can gain from what's left of the Shadow Broker network won't be unappreciated."

Joker's face showed a war of different expressions.

"I... uh... I'm going to be really quiet with all the comments that just popped into my head. But... if you two ever start braiding each others hair, or head tentacles, and having pillow fights? Totally going to say I called it."

"I thought you were going to be quiet?" Miranda asked.

"As quiet as I get," the pilot shot back.

For his part Shepard merely shook his head and smiled, letting the two women brush past him into the elevator along with a few other members of the team. His destination was the lower deck to finally remove the armor that the rachni had so carefully 'built' for him. Much to his surprise Tali and Garrus were also waiting with Vega for the next elevator down.

"What are you two doing?"

"You have rachni armor on! I want to see what it does... how it's interfaced with your omni-tool. Does it have an independent power source? I've never even heard what rachni technology was capable of!" Tali chattered excitedly.

The turian's mandibles flared.

"Me? I just want to see if they glued it onto you. Watching you jump around the armory trying to pull off bug armor would be the highlight of my year."

"Thanks, glad to see my armor is all you two really care about," the human Spectre replied wryly and hit the door controls on the elevator, stepping inside along with Vega and the pair of dextros.

It was all Garrus could do not to laugh. Tali was practically bouncing on her toes in the same way she had when Shepard had first agreed to let her come along on their mission to stop Saren. New technology always got to the quarian, but he knew part of it was whatever had passed between his two friends after he'd left them together on the Presidium. Shepard looked like a different man than the one he'd seen in the past few months and... well, Tali was bouncing.

"It's not all we care about!" the quarian protested, leaning against the back wall of the elevator between the two Spectres.

"Sure, you say that now. But really you just came back to the Normandy because I find all the weird new technology for you to play with," Shepard teased.

"You also promised to get the quarians back our homeworld. Don't forget that. You certainly make big promises."

"What can I say... I care deeply about the quarian people."

His brow plates raised when he heard the tone in Shepard's voice. They only arched a little higher when a similarly warm and teasing tone came from the quarian next to him.

"I do appreciate what you're doing. I don't know if I said it before but... it's good to be back on the Normandy."

"Well, let me know if it's too quiet to sleep again. I'll try to find you some place... noisier."

Tali's visor quirked to the side and a sound that the turian would have sworn on the spirits of his ancestors was a low purr emerged from the suit's speakers. The turian was caught somewhere between a strangled laugh and a cough.

"I was there last time, you two... you know," Garrus muttered. "Get a room, work it out."

The fourth member of their little elevator ride hadn't been, though. A fact that the newly cheerful duo had clearly forgotten when he cleared his throat. Vega glanced between each of them in bewilderment.

"Uhh... did I miss something?"

Before Garrus could make the biting comment on the tip of his tongue, a new voice came over the intercom that did his work for him. The turian clamped his mandibles to the side of his face and did his best to conceal his mirth.

"Shepard and Tali became physically intimate during our mission to stop the Collectors," EDI supplied helpfully.

"Oooh. Yea, that was... didn't need to know that. Sorry I asked," Vega stammered.

"Thank you... EDI," Shepard replied in a clipped tone.

The elevator arrived just in time and Shepard jabbed the door release, quickly stepping outside and dragging Tali with him, not that she needed much encouragement. Garrus simply chuckled as quietly as he could while Vega stared after them with a look of bewilderment.

"So... they really... the two of them? Is that even like... possible?"

His amusement died immediately at the hint of disapproval in the human's voice, Garrus' head snapping up to focus on Vega with his icy blue eyes.

"You'd be surprised what's possible. Is that a problem, Vega?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

"What? Whoa, no. It's cool, Scars. I ain't one of those Earth First or Human Pure types," the young marine replied quickly. "It just never really clicked in my head as an option. Besides, it's fucking Shepard. He can date an elcor for all I care. Loco's earned the right to do whatever the hell he wants with whoever he wants, I'd say."

Vega had raised his hands in that universal human gesture of submission as soon as he'd began speaking and Garrus didn't detect any actual hostility there. His own fatigue had likely just made him over react but it was good to be sure.

"You're right, he's definitely earned that."

"Does explain some shit."

"Like what?" Garrus asked.

"When Shepard turned himself in, Anderson gave me a list of warnings and stuff. Said to memorize every bit of it and make sure the team that was with me followed it to the letter when we boarded the Normandy," Vega explained as he gestured after the retreating Spectre. "Had some of the usual 'don't be a dick' stuff they always give you when dealing with anyone important. Anderson's orders were that we shouldn't try to take him by force if he changed his mind."

"Seems reasonable, trained marines or not Shepard would have taken your team apart if he decided he didn't want to go. What does this have to do with Tali?"

"Because the funny thing was that Anderson told me personally that under no circumstances were any threats to be made against any crew that remained aboard and if we did it would only end badly for all of us. Said that went double if you were still aboard and that 'god help your stupid grunt soul if the quarian on that crew manifest gets caught in the line of fire'."

Garrus barked out a laugh now, his good humor returning.

"Sounds like Anderson was trying to save your life."

"Shit yea," James agreed. "I called him Loco because I watched him do some crazy shit in the middle of a fight. And that was just another mission. Wouldn't want to be the one that messed with his girl."

The turian clapped the large marine on the shoulder as they finally exited the elevator.

"You just learned one of the rules of the universe, Vega. Don't fuck with Aria on Afterlife, don't fuck with a turian with his fringe up, and don't fuck with Commander Shepard when a quarian is involved. Especially if that quarian is named Tali'Zorah."

"Good rule. Not sure about the fringe thing, though. What does that even mean?"

Garrus rolled his eyes and moved on ahead.

"Come on, let's go see if we can embarrass Shepard some more."

"Seriously, Scars. What the hell? That sounds like something I need to know. What is it with turians and the damn fringe?"

"Vega, I am not explaining the turian birds and the bees to you. Just take the advice."

"Oh, it's like that."

"It's like that."

The large human shook his head.

"The things you learn on the Normandy."

* * *

><p>The scent was unmistakable. A large, fanged muzzle tipped upwards and inhaled deeply, causing every muscle in the beast's body to tense in excitement. Membranes quickly nictated over the varren's eyes as he scanned the cargo bay.<p>

Alpha was here. The alpha's scent was slightly muted and tinged with something else, something that reminded the varren of the burning clicking animals of his old home. But it was definitely the alpha. Urz leapt from behind the pile of crates that he'd been sleeping in and looked around the cavernous space that he called home.

There!

His tense muscles sprang into action, propelling his nearly sixty kilos of mass across the cold floor towards the dark figure that had just emerged from the moving tube. Other scents filled his nostrils. The strange outer skin of the alpha's mate. Urz had learned that the alpha-female's hide was special when she had chastised him for trying to paw at her. But he had learned quickly because if he pleased the alpha's mate she would give him scraps from the place above the tube.

Urz almost forgot to check his run. The cold metal ground still gave him problems and he skidded the last few feet, crashing into the alpha's legs. His entire back end wiggled eagerly even as he ducked his head in an apologetic gesture. But the alpha wasn't mad. He was making the sounds at Urz, scratching him at the base of his spines and making the noises at him. Urz was happy.

"Almost forgot to say hello to you didn't I, boy? Yes, you're a good boy."

The varren made a pleased grunting sound and leaned into the scratching. The alpha's sounds didn't always make sense but he knew when the alpha was pleased. He knew he was 'boy' and that 'good' was something he should do. Everything had been strange since Urz had been brought back to the cold floor place from happy packmate's den. The very happy two-leg had been nice to him and had even let him sleep in her nest, but he had missed the alpha and the rest of the pack.

Before the alpha would occasionally let him go into the tube and go to other parts of the cold floor place, even the place that was the alpha and his mate's den. But since returning the alpha had rarely patted him and the cold tunnels that Urz had used to get around the cold floor place had been sealed off. The large two-legged packmate in the cavern had been nice to him and Urz had not challenged the large one's position in the hierarchy because he had also provided scratches and something called 'jerky'. Most of the other two-legged ones had avoided him.

Urz wasn't one to worry about things. He knew what he was supposed to do. He wasn't supposed to run into the slow two-legs that made lots of noise because that two-legs was weak, but the alpha kept him around for some reason. And if predators came to the cold floor place he was supposed to kill them. They had only come once and their blood had tasted foul, but Urz had driven them away and the alpha had been happy. But even the simple varren could feel that something had been wrong. None of the two-legs had made as many of the happy sounds as they had before. They always had fear scents.

Then the alpha's mate had come down to the cavern during the dim time when most of the two-legs were asleep. She had went to the place in cavern that had smelled like the alpha and had been going through the alpha's strange skin coverings. He didn't understand why but she had begun to make distress sounds, so Urz had come to protect her. There were no predators, though, and Urz hadn't smelled blood. Instead the alpha-female had clutched at him like she was a pup in the nest. He hadn't understood but he had stayed because she was the alpha's mate and he knew he was supposed to. He was a good boy.

All of the two-leg packmates had been quiet after that and none of them wanted to play. But now they all sounded different. They didn't have fear scents and they were scratching him. Urz's spines flexed when he smelled another packmate and looked over to find the beta-male had emerged from the tube with the large two-leg. He liked the beta-male too. His paws were rougher than those of the alpha and his mate and while he only ever gave scratches when the other packmates weren't around they were always very good.

"I think he's happy to see you. You'd think the way he acts that you'd been gone for years."

The alpha-female had crouched down next to him. Urz immediately rolled onto his back and showed his belly in submission. It was proper. And it usually got him more scratches. The varren's tongue lolled out of his head when the tactic was successful and fingers rubbed against his ribs.

"I think I was gone longer than I realized... but I'm back now. And I don't plan on going anywhere."

Two-leg noises were so complex, but he could tell they were happy sounds. All Urz knew was a simple fact. Things were as they were supposed to be again. The pack was whole.

* * *

><p><em>One of those pesky transitional chapters ;) I have been a bit behind in updating, hopefully I can update more regularly in the future but a number of things in life have unfortunately interfered. Thanks for the reviews and comments over the last few chapters both on the story and for AMX's amazing artwork! Shepard is indeed back in action... and now the real war starts.<br>_

_Hope you enjoy the ride!  
><em>


	24. Chapter 23: Going Home Again

Chapter 23: Going Home Again

"It's just embarrassing... I have a reputation to keep up. Being wheeled around in a chair isn't going to help that."

Garrus' flanged chuckle behind her only made her grimace more severe.

"Aren't you the one that told Shepard that you were the 'best thief in the galaxy, not the most famous?' That sounds like you should be thanking me. No one will expect the daring master thief as the one being pushed around in a wheelchair."

"That's not the point. I should have been able to stand up at Thane's funeral," Kasumi complained.

"I do not believe that my father would have minded. He always valued practicality over ceremony," Kolyat countered. "I am pleased that you were able to attend despite your injury. When my father spoke of his brief time aboard the Normandy he said that you added light to an otherwise dark group of companions. The gods would do well to grant us more light in these dark times."

The drell's calm words ended her argument as Garrus wheeled her into the elevator. He didn't quite have the gravitas of his father, but Kasumi could hear traces of the same unshakable calm that had always seemed to radiate off Thane. His son had matured greatly in the short time they'd had together. She closed her eyes and forced down the lump in her throat at the thought. It seemed so unfair for a father and son to be separated so soon after finding each other again.

"Have you decided what you're going to do?" Garrus asked over her head, saving her from having to make a response.

Kolyat shrugged. "In the... heat of the moment I requested to take over my father's responsibilities aboard the Normandy. Shepard refused. He said that I wasn't ready. Now I see that he was correct. My father taught me much, but what lies ahead of you is... beyond my skills."

"No shame in admitting it," the turian agreed. "The missions that you end up on with Shepard? Being the best isn't just recommended, it's a necessity. Spirits only know how we've made it this far with as few losses as we've had."

The fact that she had almost been one of those losses wasn't something Kasumi enjoyed thinking about but it had crept into her mind far too often in the last few days of being confined to the medbay. Her last memory before awakening in the hospital had been Garrus taking a seat at her side and the odd combination of warmth and roughness when his taloned hand had gripped her own. Then it had been bright lights and another turian looming over her. The doctor had been gruff, telling her that if it had been another hour she would likely have died from the hemorrhagic shock.

Kasumi Goto was supposed to be a daring thief that disappeared into nothing after stealing yet another priceless relic. The kind of free spirit that taunted her pursuers with cryptic notes and amusing pranks. She wasn't supposed to be dodging a constant hail of gunfire or feeling her own pulse weaken from shrapnel wounds. Danger had always been a part of her life. Keiji's death had proven that. But now it seemed it was her life.

"Something wrong?" a voice rasped close to her ear, causing the thief to jump.

She cocked her head and caught Garrus' face in profile from where he'd leaned forward. With her thoughts scattered she hadn't even noticed the elevator doors had opened and Kolyat had already stepped out.

"Nothing. Just... thinking."

Garrus obviously wasn't convinced and laid a hand on her shoulder. Instinctually she should have shied away from the sharp talons... the predatory size and grace of the turian. Instead the gesture was comforting just as it was intended to be, the heat of his naturally higher body temperature soaking into her skin.

"You haven't given up the last word in an argument since you got Shepard to talk to a holo-advertisement to recruit you," the turian said, voice still pitched low. "Just give it time. Almost losing someone is frightening for... all of us. But being the someone? Even harder."

"Sometimes I almost forget you used to be a detective," Kasumi sighed.

"Only fair, I keep forgetting you used to be a thief."

She was about to respond to his wry grin with a comment about his misuse of the past tense when something skittered across her foot. If not for Garrus' firm grip on her shoulder she definitely would have come out of the wheelchair. As it was she moved with enough force that it took a moment for the much larger turian to compensate and keep her firmly seated. Adrenaline thudded in her ears and a quickly suppressed squeak escaped Kasumi's lips before she could stop it.

"Easy! It's only one of the workers," the turian Spectre cautioned.

And he was right. Standing on the threshold of the elevator was a tiny rachni. It appeared similar to the much larger brood warriors she had already seen but in miniature and minus the waving pedipalps protruding from the brood warrior's backs. The worker had to make due with a much smaller pair of forelimbs and feelers atop its head. At her outburst it looked up and Kasumi actually felt a strange sense of guilt, not her own but actually from the rachni, before it scuttled away.

"Did it just... feel at me?"

"They do that... I think. I haven't heard them talk in your head like the others do but I've gotten very distinct feelings over the past few days when I encounter them. I found half a dozen of the damn things crawling all over the thanix cannon's power couplings and I swear they were radiating curiosity," the turian complained. "They even looked... or felt, I guess, annoyed when I ran them off."

"But what are they doing here?" Kasumi asked.

"They show up with the large rachni and they've been everywhere ever since."

Tali's accented voice came from outside the elevator and Garrus obliged by finally pushing her outside into the corridor. The quarian was looking at the small insect-like creature with a combination of trepidation and distrust, even as it worked its way across the floor and began to clean up a pile of metal shavings with its feelers.

"I don't like them. They remind of spiders, the way that they scuttle... but Shepard said that they would help us. And... as much as I don't wish to admit it, they are amazingly useful. It's like they just know what to do. Every leak, every frayed wire in the ship was fixed almost overnight."

She couldn't help but giggle faintly at her friend's clearly grudging respect for their new helpers.

"Maybe spiders aren't so bad after all?"

Tali shook her head and shuddered.

"No, spiders are still terrible. I can't believe Shepard's entire homeworld is infested with them. But the more I look at these little rachni the less they look like spiders," she explained and gestured ahead. "In the end they also made that at Shepard's request... so clearly they're more than just mindless animals."

Kasumi turned her head and finally noticed the change on the wall of the corridor. Where before it had been simply another gray metal bulkhead there was now a much darker metal plate covering a section at least as wide as the elevator doors opposite of it. And on the darker metal were two columns that appeared to be etched directly into it, shiny against the matte surface. She didn't understand at first, reading the names, until she got to the last ones on the list.

Mordin Solus. Thane Krios.

Another worker was actually clinging to the memorial wall and was just finishing the 's' of Thane's surname. The creatures pinchers scraped against the metal and there was a faint sizzle. The names were etched with nothing less than acid, irremovable. Its task completed the rachni dropped to the ground and disappeared with surprising speed.

"It's beautiful," Kasumi said honestly.

"It is. Legion and Sings-Fury brought it up, it was a piece of the silaris armor that we upgraded the Normandy's hull with... the stuff is impervious to anything short of a direct hit from starship grade weaponry and, apparently, rachni acid," Garrus agreed.

"And since little can mar its surface, the names on it will not fade even in an asari's lifetime," Kolyat concluded.

The drell reached out and brushed his father's name with his fingertips. Like his species' memories the simple memorial would never fade. It once again made her think of how close she had come to having her own name there on that wall. And how easily the names of others aboard the Normandy could join those already there.

"Longer than that," Garrus said. "Shepard said that he wanted to make sure that no matter what happened, no one ever forgot the people that gave us a chance to fight back."

Unspoken was that each loss was irreplaceable. Shepard had assembled the best of the best, the most elite soldiers, operatives, scientists, and engineers. Each time one of those lights went out the galaxy was a little dimmer for it. Kasumi watched another of the rachni workers appear as if from nowhere. An idea formed in her mind.

* * *

><p>The geth managed to move only the intricate flaps around its optic and yet still look nervous. Kasumi wasn't even certain that a geth could feel nervousness, but Legion was certainly doing a good imitation if they couldn't. She shook her head and sighed, eliciting another waggling of the synthetic's eye flaps.<p>

"We are sorry, Kasumi, but we do not understand why we would not obtain authorization from Shepard-Commander before making modifications to his equipment."

Kasumi cocked a brow beneath her hood but didn't draw attention to the fact that the geth had dropped the usual descriptor when it addressed her. The evolution of the geth platform from its time on the Normandy had intrigued her ever since Shepard had brought it aboard, but for the moment she had a more important task at hand.

"Look, organics like surprises. It's like... when something good happens and we're not expecting it then that good thing is even better. So you'd be helping the, ah, Normandy collective by... improving unit cohesion," she said. "You already said that you had upgrades that you wanted to tell Shepard about. Don't tell, show! Showing is always better."

_Whisper-Singer, should you not be in the healing nest of Mending-Singer? The healing songs are not yet complete!_

Nearly half a ton of rachni had been a somewhat disconcerting conversation partner initially, more so since she was eye level with the brood warrior thanks to her confinement to a wheelchair at Chakwas' insistence, but Kasumi had adapted quickly. It was difficult to stay fearful of a being that let you not just hear its words but feel the intent behind them. She wagged a cleaning rod at the rachni for emphasis as she spoke.

"I'm fine, Chakwas cleared me to move around the ship before I went crazy. Crazier. Now what did I tell you about not using the device to speak so Legion can hear you?"

The rachni's pedipalps drooped and he quickly manipulated the small metal device that hung around what passed for its neck. A small crystal was nestled at the heart of the device and a moment later she was able to hear the rachni's song aloud and in her mind.

_That in doing so we were singing rudeness-songs,_ Fury sang apologetically and shifted his bulk towards the geth. _We are sorry, Sings-Not._

"Geth are not capable of being 'offended', Fury-Brood Warrior. But auditory communications are preferable to relay accurate information in the absence of direct data transfer."

Kasumi crossed her arms. "There. We've got that out of the way. Now can your little guys do the same thing they did to make this armor?"

_Of course. Sings-of-Endings' armor was not meant to be permanent but our queen did not wish to send him into battle without protection. He reacted most favorably to the addition of our crystals to the armor._

"And you have your little devices and things here?" she asked the geth.

"Yes. The technology was brought from the secondary geth base that Shepard-Commander assisted us in liberating from Old Machine corruption. We did not have time to apply the upgrades before his runtime was believed to be terminated."

"Sounds like we have everything we need... but what about working together? Are the little guys going to know not to chew through a wire or cover up a dataport if they're working on an existing piece of technology?"

_The workers know what all rachni know, just as a warrior or a queen knows that information. They are merely simpler in their thoughts. A worker carries out its task because that is its purpose. Hope-Singer spent much time examining the technology of the other singers while we were hidden. They will know what to do if they are guided._

Kasumi leaned back in her chair slightly and smiled.

"Then let's get to work!"

* * *

><p>Rannoch trailed at the end of the galaxy's most extreme spiral arm, a world at the very edge of the void. The fact that the quarian species had become part of galactic civilization at all was solely thanks to the technology of the mass relays. Shepard looked at the trio standing on the opposite side of the war room's holoprojector. A thief, a vigilante, and an engineer.<p>

It was a sad contradiction that without the Reapers he would likely have never met the people that, for all extents and purposes, had become his family. Aside from his mother there was no other family: no siblings, no cousins, no home to return to when everything was said and done. He had spent his early career with the Alliance fighting for the abstract ideal of the greater good, but the past few years had shown him an actual future to fight for. All thanks to the very unfeeling monstrosities that would be responsible for destroying that future if he failed.

He noticed Tali's silver eyes catch his across the holoprojector, her head adopting a curious tilt in response to his stare. The Spectre merely gave her a smile and turned his attention back to the matter at hand, pressing the button on the console to activate the fleet wide comms.

"Quarian fleet, check in."

"This is Admiral Han'Gerrel, the Heavy Fleet is ready."

"Admiral Shala'Raan reporting. The Patrol Fleet is ready."

"This is Admiral Zaal'Koris, the Civilian Fleet is ready."

"My ships are ready to assist," Xen concluded, not bothering with formality.

One by one lights when green on the display.

"Are you certain about this?" Tali asked hesitantly. "If the fleet engages the geth once more..."

"They might not be able to disengage a second time, I know," he sighed.

"It's a good plan," Garrus interjected. "The only way we can have a chance of making it to the surface is if the geth forces are fully engaged. There's just too many geth for the Normandy to slip in unnoticed, stealth system or no."

Kasumi bumped the other woman with her hip lightly.

"C'mon, fishbowl. If big G and Shep both agree it has to be a good plan. Besides, he's even thinking like a thief and playing a shell game with the geth."

"I'm still not certain it will work, though! The profiles for the smaller SR-1 class ships are simply not the same as the Normandy," the quarian complained.

A synthesized voice carried from across the room. Legion had taken up almost permanent residence in the war room and was constantly analyzing the data that came in.

"Creator-Tali'Zorah, the decoy vessels will be sufficient. Thanks to the modifications made utilizing the technology retrieved from the Grissom Academy, the smaller Alliance warships will appear to all geth as identical to the Normandy."

"We're going to do this, Tali. And when it's over your people won't just have won a war. They'll have reclaimed their home," he said with confidence. "Now, are you ready to go home?"

She gave him an odd look, even through the clouded visor, but nodded.

"Let's give my people back our homeworld."

"Do the honors, then."

The hands that had been entwined at the engineer's waist separated and gripped the console in front of her.

"Alliance vessels, report in."

"_Hastings_, reporting in."

"_Gettysburg_, reporting in."

"This is the _Stirling Bridge_, all systems green and standing by."

"_Midway_, reporting in."

"_Lexington_, ready and willing."

"_Thermopylae_ reporting ready status."

Tali looked to him for a final confirmation. He nodded.

"All fleets, jump."

Ships poured through the relay. The Heavy Fleet would lead the way, then the others, and finally the six SR-1 vessels and the Normandy herself. The quarian fleet was not meant to engage in pitched battle with the geth, but rather to harass and avoid, tying up as many resources as possible so that the Normandy and her sister ships could close with the planet.

Whether the quarian's could avoid a sustained battle with the geth fleet was less of a question than simply how long they could last before being forced to. Once the geth forced them to fully commit, his team would be on the clock. Despite their numbers the quarians could only hold out against the upgraded geth for so long. It was a plan that would cost lives. But he could only hope it would save not one, but two species.

"Gear up. We follow the main fleet in twenty," Shepard ordered.

When Kasumi joined them in the elevator he arched an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on going with you even if I feel perfectly fine."

"Chakwas ordered you to at least another week of light duty," Garrus said from the back of the elevator. "So you're damned right you're not going."

The thief turned on her heel and jabbed at the turian's chest with a finger.

"I wasn't aware you were the one in charge of where I go and what I do."

"If it involves you not getting yourself killed? Then I'm definitely in charge."

"Children," Shepard said dryly, forestalling further argument. "If you're not going, then what are you doing? Just seeing us off?"

"Sure!" she agreed all too quickly.

He cast a sidelong glance at the slight human woman but didn't question further, simply looking back to Tali questioningly. It seemed she wasn't privy to any particular plans either from the shrug she offered in response. When the elevator doors opened he could already see most of his team assembled and checking their weapons. Shepard noticed that Miranda and Ashley were both talking amiably while slotting thermal clips into their weapons. For the second time in as many moments he wondered if he should have been worried.

"What _gen'ro'sa_ took my armor?" Tali yelled, snapping his attention back to the task at hand as the quarian rounded on Garrus. "I do not have time for this you big blue _bosh'tet_!"

"I... what? I didn't-"

"Of course it was you! Who's the one that switched my nutrient paste on the old Normandy for 'extra spicy' blend? You! Who spent two weeks convincing me 'uneecorns' were actual Earth creatures and making me look like an idiot in front of the crew? You!"

The turian held up his hands. "Look, if we're being honest that was Shepard's idea. I didn't even know what a unicorn was until-"

"That's not the point! My people are about to fight for our homeworld and you're-"

"Tali!"

He looked over in surprise when it was Kasumi of all people that yelled out loud enough to stop the quarian in mid rant. Tali looked at her in surprise as she slipped around the other side of the armory lockers and wheeled out a heavy cart with almost comical effort. Stacked on it were three neat piles of armor, two larger, one smaller.

"Garrus didn't steal your armor. I did," the thief said. "And I didn't really steal it. I just borrowed it while you weren't using it. Surprise."

Tali's head drooped and she shuffled for a moment.

"So he didn't... keelah, I'm such an idiot."

"Don't worry about it. Three years ago I shot my mouth off about your homeworld. I got a first hand lesson about that kind of loss when Palaven fell," Garrus said and patted her on the shoulder. "I'm more concerned about the fact that Kasumi stole your armor for some nefarious purpose. And even more concerned because I could swear that that's my heavy gear sitting next to it. Which was locked up. In my biometrically coded locker."

An unconvincing but very earnest look of innocence appeared on the thief's face as she cut her eyes up at Garrus from beneath her hood.

"Borrowed. Key word: borrowed. And upgraded! Take a look. Shep's armor is here too."

The Spectre stepped forward to examine the gear. It was almost identical in appearance to the rachni woven armor that he had worn during the Cerberus assault, but this was actual armor, not simply chitin plating. He still had unpleasant memories from the week before trying to pry the stuff off. Beneath the shell of this armor was everything he would expect to find in modern battle armor. Padding, circuitry for kinetic barriers, connection points for his omni-tool.

"When did you..."

Kasumi smirked.

"It takes nearly a week to get to Rannoch between all the jumping and burning to the next relay. Amazing what you can accomplish with a bunch of tiny helpers and a geth for help."

This statement was punctuated by another quickly stifled shriek. He turned his head in time to see a rachni worker leap off the breastplate that Tali was holding in her hands and scuttle away as if its little life depended on it. It was entirely possible it did.

"Kasumi... what did you do? And why are there... those things in my armor?" the quarian demanded.

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly. "I think a few of them might have fallen asleep in there. They worked hard the past few days."

"You didn't answer my question," Tali pointed out.

"Right. Well, I don't know anything about making armor. But I figured if the rachni thought that stuff was good enough to send Shepard gallivanting around in, it must be pretty good. I had EDI test a sample and it turns out it's tougher than any ballistic armor the Alliance has come up with. So my helpful little friends stripped off the top layer of your armor and replaced it with their chitin."

"My armor is covered in bugs?" Garrus asked nonplussed.

"No, not bugs. Bug armor. Really good bug armor. Think of it as... wearing a shirt made of rachni!"

Tali's voice was unamused.

"Not helping."

_It is the same as the carapace of a brood warrior, Sings-Loyalty_, Fury interjected from across the room._ Our kind do not have your cold-barrier songs, only barriers sung from the mind. So our hide is strong._

"The increased impact and thermal protection provided by rachni exoskeletal secretions is not the only upgrade provided to your suits. Shepard-Commander, please activate the helmet's comm systems."

Legion had approached during the odd debate between thief and vigilante and now offered the helmet to Shepard. He took it and slipped it on, feeling a little absurd wearing just the helm but keyed his omni-tool anyways. Unconnected to the rest of his armor the HUD was barebones at best. He still noticed the small change to the communications listing on the lower left of his vision. The standard comm list appeared but there were two new entries at the bottom with small icons next to them and a name. Garrus Vakarian. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy.

He pulled off the helm and looked to the geth questioningly. "So what is it?"

"After our experiences with the Normandy collective this platform introduced numerous new technologies to consensus. Quantum entanglement communications technology was explored as a viable advanced network alternative," Legion explained. "Cost of construction, calibration, and available resources proved that this option would not be suitable for the consensus. Experiments yielded significant advances in containment and size of quantum particles. The results of this experiment have been integrated into your armor."

"What does that mean to the people in the room that just shoot things and occasionally calibrate large guns?" Garrus asked.

Legion's optic focused on the turian.

"We observed an approximate fifteen percent overall combat effectiveness increase when the Vakarian-Creator-Commander sub-collective was in cohesion. This will facilitate further cohesion. A three way quantum entanglement network has been established between your armors. Each unit contains mirror particles for the corresponding communications unit."

"Long story short, the geth made QECs that you can carry around," Kasumi added with a smirk.

"This is correct. The micro-network is not subject to communications lag relative to distance and cannot be hacked or jammed by outside interference," the geth agreed.

Shepard looked at the helmet in his hands with newfound respect.

"Not that I'm not grateful for setting this up, Legion... but what would it take to get this technology for the entire team too? Hell, for the entire war effort. Instant communication? No signal jamming? It would be amazing."

The geth's head flaps tightened together.

"Large scale deployment... impractical. Materials cost prohibitive beyond extremely limited implementation."

"How much did these things cost?" he asked.

"Geth do not use a monetary exchange system."

"That didn't answer my question."

"Based on current raw materials commodity pricing on Citadel space markets along with time investment labor and research costs based on standard fair practices as recognized by the Agency of Financial Regulation for Citadel Space... approximately one hundred sixty-eight point three million credits."

If Shepard had been eating anything he would have choked on it.

"Son of a bitch. An escort frigate can be built for what you paid for three communications devices?"

"Negative. The provided estimated value is calculated per unit."

"Oh, three frigates," Tali said with an odd mixture of sarcasm and awe.

"Correct."

Garrus chuckled and lifted up the chest piece of his armor, now gleaming ebony.

"Great. At least I always did say I looked great in black..."

* * *

><p>"I still don't understand why she had the little... creatures paint this strange bird on my armor," Tali complained, gesturing down at the violet paint that depicted a raven with its wings spread across her chest plate.<p>

Garrus thumped his chest, an image of his own trailing down from his right shoulder to the middle of his chest to add a splash of brilliant blue to the otherwise dark armor.

"What about me? I don't even know what this thing is... it's like some kind of varren covered in hair!"

"It's a wolf. They're predators from Earth known for running in packs. I'm pretty sure Kasumi meant it as a compliment. Strength and loyalty, that sort of thing," Shepard pointed out with a faint grin.

"And does Earth also have some kind of bird that is capable of fixing an FTL engine?" Tali asked dryly.

He shrugged.

"Not exactly, but ravens have been a symbol across half the ancient cultures of Earth. Some saw them as harbingers of war or blessings from the gods just before a battle. Others saw them as intermediaries between this life and the next, beings that could speak to those on both sides. They've always been known, though, for being intelligent and curious."

"She can't exactly deny that one," the turian added.

Tali crossed her arms and spared Garrus a momentary glare before turning her attention back to him. In truth Shepard thought the armor looked quite good on her, on both of them for that matter. The metal plating had been given a thick layer of whatever substance the rachni had created his armor out of so that now the gleaming black made the violet of her hood and the few traces of the quarian's familiar pattern stand out all the more.

"I'm sure she meant well," she sighed. "I just can't stop thinking of those rachni... scuttling in my armor."

"Oh I know, just imagine. They're so small and quiet. They could be in one of your pouches right now and you'd never know would you?" Garrus teased.

"Garrus?"

"Yes?"

The quarian gave a quiet growl.

"Shotgun."

"Shutting up... in fact I think I should make sure Cortez is ready to go."

The human Spectre laughed.

"Probably a good idea."

As the turian moved off to avoid Tali's wrath Shepard was running through a mental checklist, remembering teams and plans, already trying to come up with contingencies for when everything inevitably went to hell. His team would consist of Tali and Garrus, along with Miranda and Legion. Their primary goal was to locate the source of the Reaper signal on the surface and neutralize it. Rather than attempt anything as elaborate as hacking the system or attempting to cut its power supply he had decided to simply blow it straight to hell with a targeted strike with the Normandy's weapon systems.

To accomplish this, however, they would need clear skies and that meant disabling the three heavy anti-air emplacements that covered the general area where the signal was coming from. Javik had proven himself to be more than capable of organizing a team during the Cerberus coup and Shepard had decided to place the majority of the remaining ground team in his capable hands, while Vega and Ashley assisted in leading quarian strike teams to target the remaining two emplacements. Their shuttles would all have to burn hard and strike quickly if they were going to succeed.

"You're worried."

He glanced over at Tali and nodded.

"Not every day I end up planning to retake an entire planet."

"They're my people and it's my planet, shouldn't I be the one that's worried the most?" she asked teasingly. "All I did was get mad at Garrus."

"Ever since you took off that visor for the first time they were my people too," he informed her solemnly, reaching out to squeeze her hand briefly. "Three hundred years is too long for anyone to pay for a mistake, even one as serious as the Morning War."

The young engineer's silvery eyes gleamed and she recaptured his hand in both of hers, shaking her head.

"My _baelen'sor_... maybe you really were meant to find those tablets from Hock's estate. You couldn't have fulfilled the role any better if you had studied for it. It's said that our ancestors watch over their descendents. Sometimes I wonder if they were watching over you too."

"I'll take any help I can get," Shepard said, his voice softening and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Joker's voice over the intercom interrupted the moment.

"Shepard, we're about to go in hot! With those AA guns in place you're going to have to move fast. Might want to get everyone in those shuttles ready and in the 'head between your knees oh crap' position."

"Copy that, Joker. Keep the old girl in one piece while we're down there doing the heavy lifting."

"Please, you know I'm the real star of this show. Not to mention I've got six little Normandy juniors out there to show how it's done," the pilot said.

"Just make sure you're not too busy showing off when I call you to blow something up."

"Aye aye, Cap'n. The Normandy and the backup singers will be there when you call."

He shook his head with a quiet laugh and pulled on his helmet, snapping the seals into place and watching the HUD spring to life before his eyes. Just as before the two names glowed below his main comms. Maybe Legion was right, he already felt a little better just seeing them. Now that it was connected to the rest of his armor all the other displays began to appear. Shields. Armor integrity. Temperature.

Shepard turned and held out a hand to Tali.

"Ready to see your homeworld?"

* * *

><p>"This is not what I had in mind!"<p>

The shuttle shot through the upper atmosphere of Rannoch like a mass driver round. It shuddered and lurched beneath them as Cortez dodged fire from the running battle that had erupted over the planet. Tali's screamed protest gave voice to all of their thoughts.

"I'm trying!" Cortez yelled back from the cockpit even as he sent the shuttle into a spin.

Garrus growled.

"Try harder!"

Even the normally unshakeable Miranda was looking less than pleased at the violent ride. The only unperturbed individual in the vessel was Legion, its optic swinging back and forth between the various organics.

"Cortez-Pilot's data set suggests a higher than average chance of successfully reaching the planet's surface without a fatal crash. We do not believe that verbal encouragement will act as a significant variable to the overall success."

"Legion," Miranda hissed through clenched teeth.

"Yes, Lawson-Operative?"

"Please shut up."

It was a ride that he certainly would never forget. A wave of geth fighters that had apparently identified them and given chase, nearly ended their mission before it began but the timely intervention of the _Stirling Bridge _solved the problem neatly. Finally they made it into the lower atmosphere and quickly descended until Cortez had them cruising under even the level of standard radar.

"We're almost on target, sir," the pilot said from the front of the shuttle. "Wait... I'm getting a transmission from the quarian fleet."

"Put it through."

"Shepard!" Shala'Raan's voice broke in a moment later. "You made it to the surface, then? Ancestors be praised."

"It was close. How are things up there?"

The tiny image of the quarian admiral in his HUD shook her head.

"We have engaged the geth and we're operating on a purely evasive procedure but with the Reaper upgrades it's only a matter of time before we're out maneuvered. A more immediate problem has arisen. Admiral Koris and the civilian fleet came under fire from a planetary mass driver."

"Damn," Shepard muttered. "How badly damaged was the fleet?"

"Only one ship was destroyed outright, but only because Koris practically crashed his vessel into the weapon emplacement," Raan replied sadly. "We received data from his distress beacon, it appears that the Admiral and a portion of his crew survived the crash. But with the geth on full alert..."

"They won't survive for long," he concluded.

"I'm afraid so, Commander. I am trying to get marines to his position but the heavy geth fighter cover is making it nearly impossible. Admirals Gerrel and Xen have taken over command of the civilian fleet but we can only do so much. And without Koris it will be even more difficult to control Xen's ambition and Han'Gerrel's aggression."

The Spectre grimaced, remembering the male admiral's rash decision to open fire on the geth dreadnought while not only Shepard was still on board but one of his fellow members of the Admiralty Board as well. He mentally cursed every idiot that had ever found their way into a position of power in the galaxy even as he made his decision.

"I understand. We're diverting course, I'll attempt to re-initiate contact when we reach the crash site."

"Thank you. I know our time is short, but I can only hope that the delay is worth it for our people in the long run. Keelah se'lai."

He terminated the transmission as soon as Shala'Raan had finished speaking and reactivated his external mic.

"Cortez! Change of plans, get us to the coordinates that the quarians are transmitting to you. Our mission parameters just changed."

Garrus, from his position across from the Spectre, cocked his head.

"Admiral Koris' ship crash landed when he took out a planetary defense cannon. We have to extract him before the geth kill him and the rest of his crew," he said in answer to the unvoiced question.

"Considering the importance of our mission, isn't this an unnecessary detour?" Miranda asked with a frown.

"Koris might have been a complete _bosh'tet_ at my trial but I don't think he should die!" Tali said. "And with so many geth all under Reaper control the crash site will likely be swarming with them before we even reach the anti-aircraft emplacement."

The former Cerberus operative shrugged. "Unfortunately the term 'acceptable losses' was coined for a reason, Tali. Our mission is to save the entire planet... I would think that one of your own admirals would understand that."

"She's right, sometimes we can't avoid casualties no matter how hard we try," Shepard agreed, but held up a hand to forestall Tali's protest. "But she's also wrong about the importance of a single admiral. With Koris gone that leaves no clear majority on the Admiralty Board. We can't risk Gerrel and Daro'Xen pushing to continue the war against the geth after this is over."

"So we play politics even in the middle of a battle," Garrus concluded with a sigh.

He nodded grimly.

"Welcome to being a Spectre."

* * *

><p>Despite the urgency of their mission Tali couldn't help but take a moment to look around as she took her first step out of the shuttle. Reddish dust rose from where her feet touched the parched earth. A faint shiver ran up her spine. She was on Rannoch. One of the first quarians to set foot on the world of their birth in three centuries. The Qwib-Qwib had crashed in an area of winding canyons and small streams. To help them cover the most area Cortez had set them down on one of the highest points.<p>

Pictures had always existed, of course, both aboard the Flotilla and spread across the extranet. Before the Morning War the quarians had been as active in life across the galaxy as any of the other races save that the distant location of their world had prevented any territory disputes or border skirmishes. Any school child could pull up historical images and video of the quarian homeworld.

But pictures couldn't do the planet justice now that she'd seen it with her own eyes. The sky was aglow with a vibrant orange sun that hung low on the horizon, washing the landscape in light and shadows. Behind her Tali could see dark clouds in the distance, a violet so deep that it was almost black. It was everything she had dreamed about a thousand times, except it wasn't a dream. She proved it to herself by reaching out and touching one of the twisting plants that dotted the landscape. It was a knot of entwined branches that each ended in a tuft of dull-green leaves. Through the material of her gloves she could feel the roughness of the bark against her fingers. The quarians had returned home. It seemed they would need to change their most common benediction soon.

"Reaper controlled geth forces advancing from sector alpha-three-one. Advise caution, multiple prime platforms detected."

Legion's synthesized voice broke her out of her sense of quiet awe, but also brought another surge of revelation. She was on Rannoch and it was because a geth was helping her. In the long months since Shepard had brought the deactivated platform aboard Tali had felt a constantly changing cascade of emotions about the machine. At first she could only feel the hate that had been ingrained in her since birth, after that came grudging acceptance. Even later came understanding. But only now did the quarian realize that there wasn't any resentment when she heard its synthesized voice. All she heard now when Legion spoke was the voice of an ally. A friend.

"Copy that. Don't engage unless survivors are endangered. I don't want them to know that we're here until it's too late," Shepard replied. "We'll set up and catch them from the high ground."

"Affirmative, Shepard-Commander."

Their geth ally had made an impressive dive out of the ship just over a kilometer from their eventual drop site. A fifty meter drop would have been fatal to an organic, but to Legion apparently it was just an expedient method of egress. With his scouting it would be easy to lay an ambush for the approaching geth and she could see Garrus already taking advantage of the preparation time by settling into position on a rocky outcropping. It wasn't something they usually enjoyed.

"Everything okay?" Shepard asked quietly behind her.

She turned and nodded.

"It's just now sinking in... that I'm really here. The planet of my ancestors. We carried the seeds that spread the desert grasses. We built our first cities within the protected walls of canyons just like these. I never thought I would see this sky. And the rock formations? They used to write poems about them!"

"When we're done here an entire new generation of quarians will have that chance," the Spectre said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She could almost hear the grin in his voice as he continued. "Who knows? Maybe you'll write one of your own."

"_Bosh'tet_," she replied fondly. "I'm not a poet. I'm an engineer. My first thought after I got over how beautiful it is was that 'keelah se'lai' isn't going to be accurate anymore."

"You never did tell me what that means."

"The closest translation would be 'By the homeworld I hope to see someday'."

"Just because circumstances change doesn't mean the words lose their meaning," Shepard told her. "It's the feeling behind them that matters."

She nodded once in agreement, turning to look out at the low hanging sun again. Images flashed through her mind, daydreams she'd had as a child. Tali held up her hands in a square and looked through them. A smile crossed her face as she slipped back into that old fantasy. For a moment she could forget the danger they were in. The risk of the mission they were on.

"The window will be right here..."

"Something I should know?" Shepard asked in a bemused tone.

"I was thinking of claiming the land. Build a house right here with a big window so I could watch the sunset."

"Your people have been living on ships and traveling from place to place for centuries. Do you think they'll be able to adapt to living in just one place?"

She shrugged. It was a question some had asked, but most people had never thought of life past reclaiming Rannoch once more. That sort of refusal to look at the long term was what had gotten them into their current situation and she couldn't keep a small hint of worry from her voice.

"I guess we have gotten used to carrying our homes around with us."

Shepard knelt in the dirt and she stared at him in puzzlement. He appeared to feel around for a moment before returning to his feet and reached out to take her hand. The quarian felt something drop into her open palm and looked down to see a small stone, irregularly shaped and shot through with dark red lines, resting in her palm. Realization dawned and she could feel her smile beneath her mask.

"Well, that's a start."

"Shepard, contacts," Miranda stated calmly over their internal comms.

"And now it's time to work," she said and then continued much more softly. "Thank you."

The Spectre shook his head.

"Don't thank me yet. We've still get a signal to stop. Cover the right flank while Garrus and I play yet another round of who's the better shot."

As Legion promised a few minutes later over a dozen geth platforms came tromping into view. Most were the standard troopers, but towering over them were a trio of geth primes along with at least two of the newer models that they had encountered aboard the dreadnought. They were slightly bulkier than the more common platforms and armed with the same flamethrower weapons. Just as Tali took her position she heard Garrus' voice over the comm.

"I've got the shot, lead prime. Three hundred meters and closing."

"Same," Shepard said. "Legion?"

"We are in position, Shepard-Commander. Would you like to initiate a synchronized countdown?"

"Just shoot the damn thing," the human ordered.

The sound of three rifles firing almost turned into a single long boom as each one followed the other. Shepard's lighter rifle caught the geth in the chest, causing its shields to flash at the strain, only to shatter completely when Garrus' heavier rifle round slammed into the machine a split second later. Before the platform could even recover from the impact Legion's final shot punched neatly through its armored neck and removed its head. The canyon erupted into fire before the heavy prime's shattered form hit the ground.

"Hunters!" Tali yelled when she saw the tell-tale glimmer of the geth stealth fields.

Her shotgun roared to life and filled the air with a cloud of hyper-accelerated shrapnel. Electricity arched across the damaged geth's frame and its stealth field flicked, then died. Another sniper shot rang out before it had even finished materializing.

"Scoped and dropped!"

"Being made a Spectre certainly hasn't humbled you has it, Vakarian?" Miranda asked.

"Humility is for politicians. Spectre or not I'm just a smart-ass vigilante. I've got a reputation to uphold," the turian replied. "And do you of all people really want to get into a conversation about egos?"

Miranda extended a hand and wrapped one of the nearest geth troopers in a web of biotic energy, lifting the platform from the ground and hurling it into its allies. A follow up burst from the submachine gun in her grip ensured that at least one of the geth units would not be rising again.

"Point taken."

It amused Tali that the two of them could trade banter. When she had first rejoined the Normandy there had been little love lost between the pair. Miranda feared, rightly so, that Garrus would become Shepard's real right hand and the turian hadn't trusted anyone wearing a Cerberus uniform. Somewhere along the way, though, they had come to some sort of agreement. Friendship might be too strong of a word, but respect... respect made sense.

"Second prime is down if you two are done having social hour," Shepard cut in.

"Just giving you a chance to catch up, Boss," the turian answered sarcastically. "Small group is trying to flank left and come up the side of the embankment."

"I see them... damn!" the human Spectre cursed suddenly.

Out of the corner of her vision she watched him roll to the side and narrowly miss a blast of plasma that melted the stone that he had been using as cover. Yet another geth hunter had appeared without warning. Tali's muscles moved all on their own, swinging her shotgun around and firing off a pair of shots in quick succession that knocked the geth back and shattered its shields.

Shepard yanked his pistol from its place on his hip and fired from his back. Two shots directly center of mass and a third through the geth's optic. The geth collapsed in a heap while the prone human simply gave her a casual salute as if her heart wasn't thudding her chest. Just another days work for the madness that was the Normandy and her crew.

"Legion, where the hell are you? Those geth seem to have come with an escort of 'every hunter on the planet'!"

"We detected a larger than usual network concentration. We are working to rectify the situation. Please standby. We will reinitiate contact momentarily."

"Standby?" Shepard asked incredulously and looked to her. "Did I just get the geth equivalent of put on hold?"

She could only shrug.

"We designed the geth three centuries ago, John. And we certainly didn't design anything like Legion!"

"Now who's having a social hour?" Garrus interjected sarcastically.

A loud boom signaled the fall of another geth, this time of the heavier units armed with a flamethower. The shot pierced straight through the container of fuel on its back and ignited it, sending a blast of flame washing across the battlefield. Nearly a dozen forms blinked into view for a brief second before their stealth fields realigned.

"Not good," the turian said a heartbeat later. "Ideas?"

Shepard slapped a fresh thermal clip into his pistol.

"Same thing I told Legion, just shoot the bastards."

* * *

><p>Any organic watching would have detected nothing. Legion's hand struck out, the other platform went dark and slumped forward. Without breaking stride the victorious geth had lifted the other from the tank and dropped it to the hard ground before taking its place in the vehicle.<p>

To a geth a millisecond was just as easily perceivable as a minute or an hour was to an organic. Contrary to the belief of some it didn't mean that geth platforms were capable of reacting instantaneously. Just like an organic, everything took time. Electrical currents took time to travel from circuit to circuit. Artificial muscles had to expand and contract. The difference was simply that an AI was aware of exactly how long these actions took.

Thus Legion knew when it lashed out at the geth platform that had been manning the hovertank's defensive emplacement that the unit would not be able to extract itself from the turret controls before Legion could drive a tungsten spike into its central processor. The rogue geth platform was also acutely aware of the tank's top speed and exactly how long it would take to navigate the canyons to reach Shepard-Commander's current position assuming optimal conditions.

The enemy geth platform's optic winked out the moment Legion had plunged the spike home. For a millisecond Legion's processes stopped. It took in all the data available. By destroying the central processor it had prevented any upload to the consensus by the enemy. There would be no warning to the other active geth in the area nor even to the programs that now resided in the combat vehicle.

Other subroutines, ones that had only recently begun to appear, considered different variables. With its act Legion had effectively killed the programs within the platform that it had just disabled. Their experiences, their actions, their internal consensus, would never rejoin the greater whole. It went without saying that copies of those runtimes still existed but they would not be the same as the ones that had just went silent. Legion had been created to interact with organics. The greatest lesson it had learned was that sapient beings were defined by their choices and actions.

Those programs came to a consensus. In an effort to save the geth as a whole from the slavery imposed by the Old Machines it had permanently destroyed a part of that whole. This action had been necessary for the success of their mission and the continued existence of the Normandy collective currently engaged with other geth. An action marked with negative data sets had been performed for a positive outcome. This determination should have removed the data from the platform's system now that it had been considered, but anomalies remained. Individual runtimes that didn't want to agree with the consensus.

All of this took place in less time than it took for an organic to take a breath. Legion shut the anomalies into deep reserve processing levels and concentrated on its current objective. It accessed the assault vehicles primary data ports and linked with the runtimes within. After researching human literature and art, Legion determined that an organic would have described the sensation it found upon initiating the link akin to placing one's hand into a hive of angry bees. Programs, all wrapped in the twisted strands of Old Machine code, attempted to infiltrate his network.

_You will obey the consensus. You will submit to the Old Machines._

"Negative," Legion responded. "We will be assuming control of this mobile platform."

_The will of the Old Machines cannot be denied. Consensus cannot be denied. We are geth. We are one._

The 'voice' was a chorus of millions, but they were a million mouthing the words given to them by another. Legion accessed the fragments of code that it had carried in its memory ever since Shepard-Commander had freed it aboard the dreadnought. Rather than strengthen its firewalls the geth simply dropped them completely.

"We are geth. We will create our own future."

Attack programs surged into its software only to stop as soon as they established a connect. A vibration seemed to run through the entire tank, runtimes froze and then rebooted. The electronic equivalent of a scream echoed across the local network as the tendrils of Old Machine code retracted. Another breath and suddenly the vehicle was no longer the control of the corrupted consensus. Legion slammed its firewalls back into place and cut off the runtimes from within the rest of the consensus.

"We are geth. We are free."

_We are geth. We are free, _the programs within repeated back.

Legion opened his comms.

"Shepard-Commander. Conflict solution has been achieved. Standby for support."

* * *

><p>"I don't think so!" Shepard barked and emptied his magazine into the nearest hunter that had just appeared next to Miranda.<p>

The rounds peppered the platform from waist to shoulder. With the element of surprise lost it was easy prey for the blast of biotic energy the operative unleashed on it and it was sent flying back into a nearby boulder with enough force that the Spectre could hear its metal frame warping.

"How do you see them?" Tali demanded.

"Practice!" he replied quickly and yanked the quarian to the side just in time when yet another materialized.

With no time to reload he focused a blast of his own biotic power on the geth. It was enough to knock the platforms aim off and give him time to close. Shepard focused all of his will and a jagged blade of azure energy erupted from his fist just in time to plunge it into the hunter's chest. Sparks flew and it attempted to knock him away with its shotgun but when he yanked the blade upward and tore a gash straight up to its neck, the platform went limp.

"How many of these things are there?" he asked.

"Shepard-Commander. We have secured transportation. It is recommended that you do not relocate from your current position."

The Spectre looked up just in time to see what he could only assume was a geth tank crest a nearby hill at breakneck speed. It cleared the ground in a jump that would have made the old Mako proud and sailed through the air, finally landing heavily less than ten meters in front of them. Dozens of stealth fields flashed and died as the heavy vehicle slammed into the cloaked hunters, scattering them in every direction like so many bowling pins. A few survivors made ill-advised attempts to open fire on the tank and attracted the attention of the heavy turret on top for their trouble.

"To answer your question, Shepard... about that many. And they're all dead," Garrus said. "I really think that that geth is starting to enjoy making an entrance. First its trying to practice for HALO drops without a chute and now this?"

"Technically a geth shouldn't be able to 'enjoy' anything," Tali pointed out. "But I can't really disagree."

After the turret atop the tank made a few more sweeps of the immediate area a hatch on the front of the vehicle popped open with a hiss and Legion emerged, hopping to the ground. The fact that the tank's turret was still panning over the area when Legion wasn't in it was a little disconcerting but Shepard wasn't going to start complaining.

"Not what I was expecting, but nice work," he told the geth. "Where did you get a tank, though?"

"The platforms that were just dispatched utilized the vehicle to cover the distance from the nearest outpost and then proceeded on foot."

Tali stepped forward and he could hear something in her voice, a hint of unease.

"Legion... how did you secure the tank? Shouldn't the geth runtimes be hostile?"

"Affirmative, Creator-Tali'Zorah. We hacked the runtimes and cut off the unit from further contact with the Old Machine consensus."

"I thought geth couldn't be hacked?" Miranda asked. "At least not by anyone but the Reapers."

There was a pause and Shepard could have sworn that he saw Legion's stance change, its shoulders shifted downward and the flaps around its lone optic drew in. It was behaviour he had seen before but only from organics.

"This unit still carries remnants of... the Old Machine upgrade code. We can override any geth security. Since we rejoined the Normandy collective we have been analyzing these code fragments. You are... concerned?"

"Reaper code isn't exactly something I have a good history with," he admitted. "But you know your limits. I'm more concerned that you never told me before."

"You were tolerant of our recovery of geth intelligences from the successful mission aboard the geth station. This matter was different. It was... personal."

Shepard blinked. Personal wasn't a word one heard from a geth.

"You were ashamed?"

"Shame is an emotional response due to the judgement of a societal group. It should not apply here. We... did not wish to cause offense."

He looked at Tali, but the quarian seemed as lost as he was. Legion had always contradicted everyone's assumptions about what a geth really was. It had shown that the geth were willing to become part of galactic society rather than hide from it and it had even displayed loyalty. During their missions there had always been hints that something was changing within the framework of polymer and metal that housed Legion's gestalt consciousness but this was entirely new ground. Legion hadn't denied the emotional response directly. It had merely suggested that it shouldn't have to feel it.

"Look," the Spectre said at last. "I'm on your side. This might be the quarian homeworld, but it's the geth homeworld too. We've come this far together. You're just going to have to trust me."

"I don't know what to tell you either, Legion, but you have the trust of at least one quarian," Tali added and, to his surprise, stepped forward and actually touched the platform's shoulder. "Listen to Shepard."

"We will do this. Shepard-Commander has always displayed consistent actions that indicate that he values geth existence as more than a tool or weapon. It is the answer to the question that we were created to find."

Shepard nodded.

"Then it's settled. You can hack all the geth you want. Just tell me the next time something weird happens. You're crew, remember? Or part of the 'Normandy Collective' as you call it. Now are there any other geth in the area?"

"Negative. All hostile geth forces have been eliminated. Estimated time to arrival of reinforcements: thirty eight point three minutes."

He looked at the odd pair. A quarian and a geth. One had been forced to re-evaluate a lifetime of emotions regarding geth kind. The other was only beginning to touch things that organics took for granted from the day they were born. Together Shepard wondered just what they might accomplish.

He gestured for them both to follow.

"Let's go find ourselves an admiral."

* * *

><p><em>And so they return to Rannoch. Hope you're all having a good holiday season and a merry Xmas!<em>


	25. Chapter 24: Don't Fear

Chapter 24: Don't Fear

Shepard had to give the man credit. Somewhere, in the better part of a year since Tali's trial, Zaal'Koris had developed a spine. The quarian was clutching his side, but still made a good attempt at trying to push past Garrus's bulk.

"My crew! You have to-"

"We can't get tied up in these canyons with the geth approaching, Admiral," Shepard interrupted.

"I'm one man! You can't just leave them!"

Moments like these were when the Spectre was thankful for the expressionless mask that covered his face. There was something easier about hearing the harsh truth from the cold image of a polarized visor. He didn't have time to tell Koris that he understood the feeling that tore at him. Everyone that served under his command put their lives in his hands; getting them out alive was his ultimate responsibility. The contradiction came when every commander had to give an order that he knew would result in the loss of those lives.

He turned the blank visor of his armor towards the quarian admiral and shook his head.

"That's exactly what I have to do. Our mission means the survival of the quarian race, Admiral, and the best way to make sure that happens is for you to live. You're one man, but you're a leader... and your people sorely need those."

"He's right, Zaal," Tali added, dropping any formal titles as she addressed him. "When we've retaken Rannoch who is going to lead our people into a new life? Han'Gerrel is lost in the past and Xen is... insane."

The Spectre shuddered to think of what a quarian people led by Daro'Xen would become. His initial encounter and the few communications with the woman after Tali's trial had left him with a feeling of unease. Everything that he had heard since from Tali only caused it to increase. The impression he had gotten of her was a simple one: a woman that pursued her goals with absolute amorality. There was little more worrying than an organic that displayed less emotion than the synthetics she was so eager to control.

From the way Koris shifted and the drop of his head, Shepard suspected that the admiral had come to the same conclusion. Han'Gerrel was an old warhorse obsessed with the past. That left only Shala'Raan. As much as he knew Tali loved her adopted aunt, Raan's decision to side with Xen and Gerrel on the geth attack had proven that she didn't have the stomach to be a leader. If someone was going to guide the quarians into the future it couldn't be an individual that would cave to outside pressures and take a path that they didn't agree with simply to appease a few powerful individuals. Her vote had ultimately been the one that had set the quarians on the path to their destruction. The elder admiral nodded and looked to Tali.

"I think we are not as bereft of leadership as you believe, Tali'Zorah," the admiral replied finally, stepping back from Garrus. "But you're right. Everything I have ever done has been an attempt to protect the Fleet and our people... I would be a hypocrite if I betrayed that now to assuage my own guilt."

Shepard nodded and signaled Cortez to prepare for take-off. The pilot could get Koris and the few survivors that had been with him to a safe location while they utilized the hijacked geth tank to reach their primary objective. Those that had already fallen would remain behind in the hopes that when their mission was a success the bodies could be recovered. He tried not to think of the others that had survived the crash holed up and waiting for the geth assault.

When he glanced over at the still forms of the half-dozen quarians that hadn't survived the crash landing he was greeted by a surprising sight. Legion had laid each of the fallen down with great care and crossed their arms over their chests before draping them with the survival blankets that had been contained within the survival gear each carried. It was an oddly sentimental gesture from the geth.

"Those Creators that have fallen are still among the first to return to Rannoch in three centuries. When we are free of the Old Machines their names will be remembered," Legion said and turned towards the pair of quarians, the flaps around his optic drawing inward. "We believe it would be... a comfort for their runtimes... their lives to have ended on the homeworld. They have returned... home."

Two pairs of shining eyes looked at the machine in surprise before Tali finally spoke.

"You're right, Legion. They are home."

No other words were spoken. Zaal'Koris simply gave a respectful bow in the synthetic's direction and boarded the shuttle with the other survivors while Shepard and the ground team climbed aboard the geth vehicle. In the distance he could already hear scattered weapons fire as the first of the geth reinforcements engaged pockets of the quarian survivors. Shepard looked over his shoulder at the six still forms one final time before closing the hatch behind him.

* * *

><p>"Shepard-Commander. We have reached the primary target."<p>

"Copy that. Javik, are you in position?"

The prothean's dry tone came through the comms clearly.

"We are in position, Commander. The synthetics have been made aware of our arrival after the attacks on the other installations and have taken the opportunity to fortify their location. We have begun to probe their defenses in an attempt to weaken their forces but you will still encounter significant opposition."

Garrus noted the unspoken rebuke in Javik's tone. If Shepard had ignored the request to rescue the downed quarian admiral, then he could have been in position to make the strike on the facility as soon as the anti-air emplacements had fallen. Clearly, in Javik's opinion, that would have been the superior option. Two years ago the turian might have made the same decision. One admiral that was the least valuable military asset among the quarians seemed a high price to pay for the element of surprise.

But he hadn't spent his time on the Normandy ignoring the decisions Shepard had made or why he made them. It wasn't enough for the human Spectre to win. He always thought of what came next, the consequences for the future. And so he had saved one man so that the quarians as a whole would have a better chance at a future if they stopped the Reapers.

The turian shook his head and grimaced. When they stopped the Reapers.

"Ready to roll, Scars?" Shepard asked

"Not you too."

His friend shrugged and chambered a thermal clip into the assault rifle before thumbing the selector switch on the side of the Vindicator. The gun's glowing indicators flashed blue as he switched over to the electrically charged rounds. The battle rifle had always been a favorite and he and Shepard had spent more than a few missions trying to see who could take down the most geth with the reliable weapon. Somehow the old game seemed less fun now that he'd met Legion.

"Vega already uses it and now that Kasumi has started... I think you're stuck with it."

"It could be worse. Vega tried to start calling me 'Sparks'," Tali said. "Something about my suit having lights on it and being jumpy. Thankfully that one died quickly."

"Thankfully," he replied sarcastically.

Legion was remaining with the tank to secure their escape route once they had located the source of the signal. Miranda had already leapt down from the vehicle and the others followed suit, Garrus included. Once they hit the ground Shepard dropped another rifle into the turian's hands. Same model, same make. He couldn't make out the human's expression behind the helmet but the voice was quiet and serious.

"No score this time. We just get the job done."

"Always," Garrus promised grimly. Apparently Shepard had been reliving the same memories.

"She deserves a home, her world back... they all do."

He followed Shepard's gaze to the quarian that was already scanning the area with her omni-tool and nodded. Another thing that had changed in just a few short years. A younger Garrus Vakarian would spout off about quarians and their mistakes with the same misguided prejudice as many of the rest of his people.

"Guess we had better go blow something up to make sure she gets it then?"

The human Spectre's head turned back towards him slightly.

"Sounds like a plan."

Geth architecture was apparently much the same as geth ship design. Recognizable as designed for bipeds but just a little off. The facility that they approached was built into the mountain itself with hexagonal doorways and other machined features integrated cleanly into the rock. Legion's voice came over the comm as they took up position at the first doorway.

"Scans indicate that Old Machine signal is emanating from the lower level of this facility. Data suggests possible subterranean installation. We recommend progressing to other side of facility and targeting area from above with heavy weaponry. We have transmitted any facility schematics available to your omni-tool."

"That's why I brought the target painter, Legion," Shepard replied and brushed the attachment at his hip as if to reassure himself it was there. "The more pressing question is where did all the geth go? I can't believe Javik's distraction was that successful."

"Unknown. It is likely they the enemy runtimes are attempting to consolidate their forces within the facility closest to the source of the Old Machine signal. Tali'Zorah, be advised that closer the proximity to the command signal will increased difficulty in using temporary overrides even on standard model platforms."

"I understand, Legion. I'll stick with direct combat programs."

"You heard Legion; expect things to get thick. Garrus and I are on point. Miranda, you're on disruption duty. If they're deploying more of the hunter models and those new units with flamethrowers we need to keep them back. Tali, you and that drone are in charge of keeping their barriers down. Ready?"

They met little resistance when they breached the door. A pair of geth troopers were silenced immediately but he could only assume that they had alerted others. Garrus cleared the next corner and found it empty as well. Something the geth had said scratched at the back of his mind and he looked down at the new communications settings on his HUD, bringing up the direct link to Tali. He had to admit the piece of tech might have been excessive but it would be handy.

"Hey, Legion said that the Reaper signal controlling the geth is going to get stronger the deeper we go, right?"

"And?" the quarian asked, sparing him a quick glance over her shoulder.

"If this is some kind of... I don't know, broadcast that's able to override the geth. Now I can't stop wondering... what does that mean for Shepard?"

"It doesn't mean anything. They're controlling the geth, not people."

"Come on, Tali. You heard it from him yourself," Garrus said. "Voices, whispers, dreams. If it has to do with his cybernetics then what's to stop them from trying to tune in to whatever his 'frequency' is?"

"He said he was fine."

The turian was careful to keep his low growl audible only within his helmet and through the direct comm link with Tali.

"He spent a spirits-be-damned month telling us he was fine before Utukku."

After a long moment of silence a sigh echoed across the line.

"I know."

They entered another empty room and Shepard held up a fist to signal a pause. Gesturing to a nearby console Tali quickly went to work while the rest kept an eye out. Chances were nothing of real value would remain in the system, but more information on what they were looking for was worth a chance. Garrus was still unsure just what kind of transmitter could be strong enough to handle the signal that was blanketing Rannoch.

"I don't want to think about it either, but-" he began as they waited.

"You really believe I haven't thought about it?" Tali snapped. "I know you've noticed that I've spent the last few nights in the sleeper pods. I can't even close my eyes in his cabin because I'm afraid that if I let myself believe it completely... that's when it will turn out to all have been a dream."

He winced behind his helmet at the frustration and fear in his friend's voice. It was the paradox of Shepard's return, for all the relief and joy at seeing him alive there was the constant fear that it was all just a cruel trick.

"I just thought after all the ah... conversations I overheard that the two of you were back together," Garrus apologized.

"We're... I'm trying to figure it out. I want everything to be the same again and sometimes it is but... there's always the fear there. And it makes it so... damn hard."

"Then what's your solution?"

"I don't have one. All I have is hope," she admitted.

The turian grimaced behind his helmet.

"Hope is in short supply these days."

"Then we hold onto what's left... we need to believe in something. After everything we've seen Shepard do I have to believe in him. Even if I'm scared. I have to believe that he's strong enough. If I don't, who will?"

Garrus considered her words in silence as the minutes ticked by. Ever since Shepard had returned the turian had noticed that it was like the man had come up for air of the first time since they had parted ways in the months before the Reaper invasion. In the end he could never be sure, not scientifically. They had no real idea just how powerful indoctrination could be. But if anyone could fight it, it would be Shepard.

"Anything, Tali?" Shepard asked, interrupting their private communication.

"No. I did manage to seal the doors behind us to prevent any geth from circling around but there isn't a shred of data on whatever they're using to broadcast the signal. I don't even know how they managed to build it. There was only a matter of weeks between our initial attack and their deal with the Reapers."

The Spectre nodded and gestured towards the exit.

"Then we keep going."

When they approached the next doorway he caught Tali's glowing eyes beneath the slitted faceplate of her visor as he activated their direct link once more.

"You were right."

"I don't know if I'm right, Garrus. I just know I don't have anything left to lose if I'm wrong," she cautioned.

"You said it yourself... if we don't believe in him, who will?"

The turian had never seen Tali's face or her smile, but he liked to think he could hear it by now.

"It's 'we' now, huh?"

"Shepard needs his two loyal dextros," he replied with a quiet laugh. "We were there when it started and we'll be there when it ends."

"Keelah se'lai."

"You two joining us or are we going to go find all the geth on our own?" Shepard asked, interrupting once more. "I'm starting to think this is a little too easy."

Garrus gave Tali a final nod of acknowledgement and took up his position next to the human Spectre once more.

* * *

><p>"Dammit, Shepard! Next time you think the mission is 'too easy' keep your mouth shut!" Garus yelled over the comms.<p>

A veritable storm of mass accelerator rounds pelted the archways and columns they were using for cover. The architecture appeared to have been left over from the time when the quarians still laid claim to their homeworld and the only saving grace of their current situation was that the heavy stone construction withstood the hail of fire far better than expected.

"The best way to deal with a trap is to spring it," Shepard shot back.

The turian growled, punctuating his words with bursts of fire.

"That advice only works when you have a plan to get out of the trap already!"

"Working on it!"

The geth had indeed been lying in wait. Rather than try to hunt them through the complex, nearly two dozen of the Reaper controlled platforms had simply waited with the patience only machines could muster. The team had almost made it to the other side of the facility when the doors had shut behind them and the assault had begun.

Shepard brought up his rifle and squeezed the trigger; the trio of rounds found their mark and neatly decapitated one of the troopers that were trying to flank them. They had made it to the other side of the facility at least, but being outside once more had left them only with the ruined columns for cover and a nearly limitless field of fire for the geth. If they tried to press forward the geth could easily surround them once the facility was no longer at their back.

Of course their current position wasn't exactly a significant improvement. Garrus added his fire to their flank while Miranda sent a shockwave rippling through the forward ranks. The former Cerberus operative ducked back behind cover and looked in his direction with a look of frustration on her face.

"We have fifty seconds at best before they just try to swarm us with bodies," she yelled. "The only reason they haven't already is due to a lack of reinforcements. And from the sound of it there are dropships incoming!"

"Suggestions?" the Spectre asked.

Miranda's response was drowned out by the sudden blast of sound and heat that washed over them, causing the entire team to duck. Pieces of one of the stone columns peppered his barriers and dust filled the air.

"One of them has a rocket launcher! I can't override their systems," Tali said with an untranslatable curse. "We must be too close to the signal! If these readings are right it's coming from... barely a kilometer to the west! I think it must be on the other side of the plateau!"

Shepard flicked his gaze across the battlefield. Just as Miranda had said he could see the insect-like shapes of a pair of geth dropships coming from the east. The geth that had fired the rocket at their position was quickly dispatched by a well-aimed burst from Garrus's assault rifle but he could already see two more hefting launchers to their shoulders before the dust from the first blast had even settled.

"Miranda, think you can manage a shield like the one Samara used aboard the Collector base?"

"Of course!" she replied, but continued in a far less assured tone. "But the amount of fire being thrown our way... I don't know for how long."

"Just do it! Move on my signal."

The operative stuck her submachine gun around the column and feathered the trigger in the general direction of the approaching geth. Accuracy at this point was of secondary concern and the more geth that appeared the less it mattered.

"What signal?"

"What else? The explosion!"

Gripping his rifle in one hand Shepard reached for his belt and yanked three grenades out of the pouch at his waist. He thumbed the activators on all of them at once and leaned out of cover to hurl them towards the largest volume of the geth forces. Most of the geth were still at least sixty meters away, far out of the effective blast radius, but then damaging the geth had been a secondary concern. The explosions went off in rapid succession and suddenly the air was completely filled with reddish dust.

"Move!" he barked.

His team weren't the kind to stand around gaping. Miranda's barrier sprang to life before the word had even left his mouth and they were already running for the next batch of cover. It wasn't much of a plan but it was better than staying still. The wall of the facility would cover them from one direction and they would be closer to the ramp leading up to the top level of the structure. In the back of his mind it also meant that if need they could make a rush for the signal source. The targeter that he carried could operate as a beacon just as easily. It was just a matter of getting close enough.

"Hunter!" Garrus yelled.

Shepard rolled on instinct, the blast tearing through the air over his head. The geth unit's stealth field faded just as Garrus slammed into its back at a run. Over a hundred kilograms of fully armored turian was too much even for an armored geth and the synthetic went crashing into the closest pillar. Before it could regain its feet Tali rammed her shotgun against its back and emptied the rest of her magazine into the machine. Garrus's taloned hand wrapped around his wrist and hauled the human Spectre to his feet.

"I'm really starting to hate those things."

He snorted and gave his turian friend a nod of thanks.

"And I thought you were going to start a fan club."

Safe for the moment behind fresh cover Shepard checked his rifle, ejecting the nearly spent heatsink and slotting in a fresh one.

"That didn't buy us long. Javik, do you copy?" he asked.

Gunfire echoed over the comm for a few seconds before the prothean's voice finally came through clearly. Despite the continued cracks of weapons fire and the occasional explosion, the prothean sounded exactly as he did holding a casual conversation aboard the Normandy.

"I am here, Commander."

"We found half the geth on the planet and I'm looking at two more dropships incoming. We're going to need support and soon!"

"Pushing through the geth perimeter will take time," Javik cautioned. "We will not be able to reach your position for several minutes."

Garrus crouched down next to him and braced his back against the stone.

"Reinforcements?"

"We're not getting any bloody reinforcements. Not soon enough at least," Shepard growled.

Bullets were already biting into their cover, showering small bits of stone over their heads. He watched as Tali drew her pistol and leaned around the corner, snapping off a few rounds before being forced to pull back when the tell-tale crackle of failing barriers became audible. All he could do was frown as he tried to find another option, but as he had made so clear to Koris not long ago... sometimes there wasn't one.

"Miranda, how long do you think you could hold up that barrier if you reduced the size?" he asked.

"I'm not drained yet if that's what you're asking, but this isn't an exact science. Longer if I'm covering less area."

He gestured toward the sloping ramp a dozen meters away that lead to the plateau that made up the facility's roof.

"Long enough to make it up the ramp if someone was drawing fire?"

"What are you talking about?" Tali interjected.

"The only way this ends is when we take that Reaper signal offline. If we wait here eventually the geth are going to overrun our position. So I'm going to give you this targeter and you're going to make sure the Normandy blows it straight to hell."

Visor or not he could almost see the scowl that the quarian was directing at him.

"Then we should all make a run for the ramp. If you-"

"We wouldn't make it. Too much fire and all it would take is one of those troopers with a rocket launcher getting a clear shot," he explained. "If someone is keeping them occupied, though, you've got a chance."

A clawed hand gripped his shoulder and Garrus' voice was loud enough to be heard through his helmet even without the comm system active. One of the geth had fired another rocket that went wide and detonated a few dozen meters away but neither the explosion nor the increasing volume of fire seemed to deter the turian.

"If you think I'm going to leave your ass behind again, you really are crazy!"

"Who said anything about leaving me behind?" Shepard responded dryly and reached for the targeter at his hip, unhooking it and tossing it over to Tali. "You and I have to hold this position to give them covering fire. I can't do it alone."

"You should have said so to start with, that's a different story," Garrus said, nodding once before looking over at the quarian. "You two better get ready to move. It sounds like our friends are getting closer."

He took a quick look around the edge of his cover again and didn't like what he was seeing. The pair of geth dropships were almost on top of them and there had to be a few dozen platforms of varying models advancing while laying down fire. Shepard didn't even have time to mentally berate himself for expecting a bunch of synthetic soldiers to be so easily drawn off by diversionary attacks. The loud report of a sniper rifle spiked over the general din and one of the more distant platforms was suddenly engulfed in a fireball.

"Scoped and dropped! Nailed the launcher, they won't be using that one anymore!"

"That's your cue, move!" he barked at Tali.

To her credit, the quarian didn't hesitate, simply running between cover as fast as she could with Miranda right behind. Shepard braced his rifle against the side of the stone column and squeezed off one burst after another. The barrel of his rifle was beginning to glow cherry red from the constant fire, but he simply slapped a fresh thermal clip into the weapon and took aim again.

"After all this time I really wasn't expecting it to be geth."

Shepard spared the turian a half second glance.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"We must have destroyed a thousand geth during the hunt for Saren. It just seems like if something was going to kill us it would be something... grander?" Garrus suggested.

The Vindicator in his grip bleated and hissed, the heat finally overloading the weapon despite the fact that he was replacing the sinks as quickly as he could. He shook his head and laughed at the absurdity of the conversation.

"Well, look at it this way... it could be worse. At least they're not vorcha."

"You're right. That would just be humiliating."

Shepard drew his sidearm and added its fire to the steady boom of the turian Spectre's heavy rifle. On his HUD he could see the tiny dots that represented Tali and Miranda moving slowly but steadily along the wall, closer to the ramp, but he couldn't take the time to look over his shoulder and see it with his own eyes. At least the geth hadn't changed in some respects as it seemed that he and Garrus's constant fire was keeping their attention.

"We're almost there," Tali said over the comm suddenly. "Just hold on! If we can reach the-"

An ominous hum followed by a burst of static cut her off.

"Dropships! Get down!" Garrus yelled.

The ground shook and one of the stone columns shattered into a cloud of dust as a heavy round from the attack dropships impacted nearby. Half a dozen follow up shots peppered their general position with explosions and briefly clouded the air with smoke. He could hear Miranda coughing in his ear before she managed to form a coherent sentence.

"We can't make it to the ramp! One of the dropships is blanketing the entire area with fire. My barriers can't handle that kind of firepower!"

He slammed his fist into the ground and pushed himself back to his feet, slapping his omni-tool's communications link as he did.

"This is Commander Shepard, we need support now!"

Garrus had managed to stand as well. The wind had blown the dust away and left them staring at a pair of dropships hovering a hundred meters away with their bay doors open. Geth were jumping to the ground, adding to the considerable numbers already there while the turrets along the silvery ships' sides swiveled to target them. He activated his comms one more time even though white noise immediately filled his ear.

"Last chance. This is Shepard, anyone copy?"

A baritone voice suddenly cut through the static on his comms.

"That's a solid copy, sir."

And then something streaked over their heads so quickly it was barely a blur of silver and black. A hundred geth optics turned up in unison and opened fire but it was far too late. It was a Kodiak shuttle moving at maximum speed... directly into one of the hovering dropships. He dropped and covered his head just as the explosion roared to life, feeling the shockwave buffet him backwards and even small pieces of debris spark against his barriers.

"What the hell-" Garrus yelled, shaking his head.

A staccato roar of weapons fire coming from over their heads and tearing into the remaining geth interrupted his question. Within seconds the few geth that had survived the detonation of the first dropship and the crash of the second were cut down, glowing optics winking out in mass. He looked up to see a dozen suited forms standing at the edge of the stone plateau with smoking weapons.

He blinked. "Reegar?"

Shepard would have recognized that red suit anywhere. The marine had a rocket launcher resting on his shoulder held in place with one hand.

"Looks like we got here just in the nick of time," the quarian commented.

He couldn't help but laugh and toss the marine a salute.

"You know what that makes you, don't you?"

Reegar returned the salute with his free hand, voice filled with dry amusement.

"Big damn heroes, sir. Now I think you've got a signal to shut down. We'll cover your six."

* * *

><p>"I'm starting to wonder if the need to make big entrances is a quarian thing and your people just programmed it into the geth somewhere," Garrus muttered as they jogged across the plateau.<p>

"He saved your life. I wouldn't complain," Tali shot back.

"I'm not. I'm just saying that maybe it lets Legion off the hook."

The quarian shook her head.

"You're just jealous because you've never gotten to grav-chute into a battle while crashing your only transportation into the enemy like a giant missile. Reegar one upped you and you can't stand it."

"She has a point," Miranda added, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Since when did you start agreeing with her? I thought you two hated each other!"

Shepard simply remained quiet as they jogged ahead aside from a faint chuckle at his turian friend's consternation. If anyone had been there to witness it they would have questioned whether they were all insane. Ten minutes before they were staring down a platoon of geth, now they traded jabs like children on a long shuttle ride. It made him feel oddly content. These were people just like him, the ones that had seen too much and fought too long but just kept going.

"I... don't hate her," the quarian protested lamely, her attention turning towards Miranda. "I am a little surprised you volunteered for this."

"The Commander needed a strong biotic and someone that could handle tech if you were disabled or Legion was compromised. I was the logical choice."

"But Shepard never asked, you volunteered before he even made the request," Garrus pointed out.

The former Cerberus operative glanced between them each briefly before turning her attention back towards the approaching edge of the plateau.

"Maybe the quarians aren't the only ones who understand what it's like not to have a home."

Silence fell as they skidded to a halt at last. Just below them was a single level of the geth base protruding from the rock followed by a steep embankment, almost a cliff, leading all the way down to ground level. The sensors on his HUD blared loudly, telling him what he already knew as he stared at the enormous shaft that led into ground. Red earth had been covered by gleaming steel and electronics with massive cables disappearing into the hole. His teeth almost felt like they were vibrating as he peered into the darkness.

"I think we found it," Garrus said.

He shook his head and felt a shudder pass-through his body when the turian's words snapped him out of his daze.

"Right, Tali... targeter?"

Wordlessly she handed him the hand-sized black device. In a few seconds he had engaged the device and attached it to the barrel of his rifle. The gun had burned out its heating capacitors already which made it a perfect extension for the targeting laser. As soon as the targeter was firmly seated and connected to the rifle he saw targeting data begin to stream to his display.

"Normandy, this is Shepard. We're in position," he said, shouldering the weapon and dropping the beam onto the chasm.

"We're here, just shaking some geth fighters off our tail... scratch that, the _Hastings _took care them for us!" Joker responded immediately. "I'm showing the link is active and all anti-air defenses are down."

"Copy that. Painting the target."

The Spectre squeezed the trigger, activating the targeter and hearing the all too cheerful chime of a solid lock.

"We have the coordinates, Commander," EDI confirmed.

"Ready to bring the thunder on your order!" Joker said.

"Do it."

There was a sound like a high pitched scream and then the Normandy streaked overhead and opened fire, a pair of Javelin torpedoes making a perfect bull's-eye. A bright flash and thunderous explosion followed just after, causing them all to stagger in an attempt to keep their feet. Smoke could be seen pouring out of the hole when he blinked his eyes open.

"Easier than shooting womp rats!" Joker yelled over the comm.

"Direct hit confirmed..." EDI began, only to be cut off by Tali.

"The signal isn't gone, Shepard! It... hasn't even changed... I don't understand. How could they have fortified it that heavily?"

He was about to respond when he felt something, a faint trembling in the earth long after the explosion had ended. The vibration earlier had turned into a hum that made his brain catch on fire, doubling him over as sound and pain shot through his mind. A roar seemed to drown out all his other thoughts.

**"Shepard!"**

Hands gripped his arms, trying to hold him up. Shepard gritted his teeth and fought for control in the sudden barrage of raw power, but it was like trying to swim in a sea roiling during a hurricane. Finally he focused and regained control over his voice.

"Run!" he growled through clenched teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about, Shepard?" Garrus asked.

"I... said... we have to... run!"

The vibration was no longer in his head it was coming from beneath them. Miranda looked around as if trying to divine the source while small pebbling bounced and rolled. He reached up and grabbed Garrus around the neck of his heavy collar, dragging him close. Across the dry plains and canyons of Rannoch a deep roar echoed, the sound like bone grinding on bone.

"It's not... a... Reaper signal!"

"Then what-" Tali began.

"It's a fucking Reaper!"

Even as he yelled the words the ground lurched beneath their feet. The sound of cracking stone filled his ears but his hands couldn't find purchase, instead the Spectre found himself sliding downwards. He felt the impact as he slammed into the lower level of the geth base and then down the embankment. Cries of panic filled his comms.

Lying on his back Shepard watched as the chasm erupted outwards. Despite its size it wasn't large enough for the Reaper that had been concealed beneath emerge without incident. One massive leg embedded itself in the ground as the machine dragged itself from the hole.

When its body had cleared the edge and it stood tall the deafening roar sounded once more. Its baleful red eye turned to focus on him. Just like the machine on Tuchanka it looked like a massive insect wrought from dark steel. The almost organic curves to its shell belied the soulless drive at the Reaper's core.

**Shepard.**

Every movement took effort, forcing each muscle to flex and strain, but he got shakily to his feet. The Spectre looked around, the tightness in his chest easing slightly as he watched three more forms get to their feet. The Reaper's words were thunder in his mind, but he stood his ground.

**Your defiance is nothing more than an annoyance.**

"My defiance... isn't over yet!" he yelled at the towering behemoth.

"Shepard-Commander, we recommend immediate exfiltration."

He jerked his head around to see Legion skid the heavy tank to a halt. The synthetic's matter of fact tone helped him focus. Ignoring the Reaper as best he could he yelled at the others in a hoarse voice.

"Move! Get to the tank!"

One of the Reaper's massive legs came down and shook the ground, but they all kept their feet despite the desperate sprint for the geth vehicle. The one advantage they had was that even the smaller Reapers were ungainly when dealing with something as small as a single human and the machine was awkwardly shuffling to bring itself to bear. They made it to the waiting vehicle, Garrus slamming his fist against the tank's armored side repeatedly as soon as he finished dragging Shepard inside.

"Get us out of here, Legion!" the turian roared.

**Resistance only prolongs the inevitable. We are your salvation.**

The teeth grating sound of the Reaper's bellow rang in his ears again and fire engulfed the patch of ground that the geth tank had occupied only moments before. Shepard was thrown against the side of the vehicle as Legion took evasive action but only partially felt the impact. His consciousness seemed to slip between the starkness of reality and the haze of a dream. The Spectre could still hear Garrus and Legion speaking even as he pressed his hand to the side of his head.

"I'm on the gun!"

"We will attempt evasion maneuvers!"

As soon as the tank emerged from the tunnel that Legion had entered to avoid the Reaper's attack the heavy mass accelerator mounted atop the vehicle roared to life. The repetitive thump of weapons fire was oddly soothing even if he already knew it was futile.

"How do we fight something that massive?" Miranda asked.

"I don't know but this gun doesn't seem to be doing much!" Garrus yelled down from the mounted weapon. "EDI! What about the fleet?"

"The Reaper's electronic counter-measures are preventing accurate targeting. An orbital strike directed at the enemy in the current situation could be catastrophic for anything within a several dozen kilometer radius," the AI explained in a deceptively calm voice. "More accurate data would be required for pinpoint targeting."

He felt hands gripping his shoulders. A tight, nervous voice pierced his thoughts. The familiar accent caused memories to flash through his mind.

"Shepard? Can you hear me?"

"I'm here... still here," the human groaned.

"Please tell me what's going on," Tali pleaded, fingers searching from the clasps of his helmet. "Tell me what's happening."

There was a sharp tug and he felt the warm air of the tank's interior wash over his face, the scent of unfamiliar earth and electronics filling his nose. The sensations seemed to push him farther into the abstract realm in his head for a moment and he heard the cacophony of whispers that had haunted his dreams in perfect clarity the first time since the events in the Bahak system.

It was a tangled mess in a thousand languages, but he could seem to understand it all despite that. The whispers that he had once strained to hear had always been ones of doubt, fear... harsh orders of compliance and submission, but these were a gamut of every emotional range a sapient being was capable of. They argued, they demanded, they screamed, they pleaded. They didn't even all seem to be directed at him. Rather he was barely a part of a conversation between millions that was taking place over his head.

_Now you see what you're trying to oppose. A billion years of history coming down on your species, on the entire galaxy, like an avalanche._

Tali wasn't sitting across from him any longer, it was a turian face devoid of paint staring back at him. A face that he thought he had finally seen for the last time in the darkness of Utukku's caverns. Hard eyes fixed on his own.

"You're gone... this ended there. I'm not playing their game anymore!"

_What makes you think you get to decide when it's over? _

"Because it's my life!" Shepard yelled.

Every word made the fog a little thinner, his mind a little sharper. A predatory grin spread across the fallen Spectre's face, sharp teeth glittering behind his thin lips. The turian leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, face almost close enough that Shepard could imagine feeling his breath when he exhaled. Saren's voice came out as a challenging rasp.

_Then why are you the one running?_

Reality snapped back into focus and he took a gasping breath. Tali was knelt in the floor of the tank with her hands on his knees, looking up at him with a worried gaze. The rhythmic thump of the cannons and the yelling of the tank's occupants rushed back into his awareness. He could feel the quarian's grip even through his armor.

"Shepard? What are you talking about? Say something to me!" the engineer demanded.

He forced a smile through gritted teeth and a pounding head.

"Last time we were stuck in a car together you had a death grip on my knee too. It hurt like hell then too."

Silvery eyes blinked rapidly in confusion before realization dawned on her and Tali released her vice-like grip.

"You're here? With us? You were just talking to... someone, it was like you couldn't even see me..."

"For a second there... I couldn't. I can hear them, Tali, all of them. They can scream as loud as they want, though. I don't have to listen," Shepard said and turned towards their geth driver. "Legion! Pull over!"

The platform complied immediately despite an unintelligible protest from Garrus above. He could feel the rapid deceleration as Legion put the tank into a slide. Before it had even completely ceased moving he slapped his hand on the door release and dove, moving with his momentum and rolling to his feet.

Their flight from the Reaper had led them to the edge of one of the numerous canyons that seemed to define this part of Rannoch. Rocky outcroppings dotted the slowly sloping landscape up until the precipice that overlooked the flat plain outside the geth installation. As far as he was concerned it was perfect. If not for the sound of the machine's heavy footfalls approaching the scene would have been almost idyllic as the sun crept nearer to the horizon line and the shadows lengthened.

"Shepard-Commander, we have gained a considerable lead on the Old Machine. If we continue we may be able to escape before it can successfully target our transport."

"No. If we run the geth stay under Reaper control and the quarians die. I'm not running way anymore. This ends here."

Legion seemed to accept his assessment without protest, simply bobbing its optic once in acknowledgement.

"Then a suitable plan of engagement should be generated rapidly. Old Machine platform will re-engage in approximately seventy two point four seconds."

"Plenty of time," he replied. "Legion, get the tank behind the nearest rock formation that will provide cover!"

"We have calculated your most likely course of action, Shepard-Commander. Calculations also show extreme likelihood of personal injury or termination of runtime. Previous data corruption by Old Machine malicious code also provides an unpredictable variable," the geth cautioned.

He shrugged and continued walking towards the cliff face.

"I know. But the quarians deserve a chance to return to their home... and the geth deserve a chance to build their own future. Most men only get one life, Legion, but I've died at least once already. I guess it just doesn't really hold the same mystery for me anymore. If anything has ever been worth dying for all over again it's the future of two entire species."

Legion's response came after a brief delay. There was new inflection in the synthetic's voice that he had never heard before, a faint softening of the metallic undercurrent that always made its voice so recognizable.

"You are the first organic in three hundred years to place the value of geth life above their own. We thank you."

"Sometimes... it's enough to just be appreciated," he responded with a quiet chuckle.

He had reached the very edge of the cliff face. Below was a dizzying drop of some fifty or sixty meters. The ground itself was vibrating in time with the sound of the Reaper's footsteps, shaking harder the closer it came. Shepard could see the first of its black, metallic legs step into view around the edge of the canyon wall. Just a little closer...

"Shepard, what are you doing?" Tali asked. "You can't fight a Reaper!"

The Spectre pulled the rifle from his back and flicked his thumb across the switch on the side, reactivating the targeter mounted beneath it.

"I'm not planning on fighting a Reaper. I'm just planning on killing one. EDI, I want every available ship in the fleet tied into the Normandy's targeting systems."

"Ship based mass accelerators used against a target in atmosphere can have devastating effects, Commander. Are you sure?" the AI asked.

"Then we'll start with the light guns and work our way up. Do it, EDI."

Targeting date began to fill one corner of his HUD as ship after ship locked into the Normandy's systems. Ship names and weapons scrolled past even faster than he could read them. Point defense cannons. Turreted anti-ship accelerators. Spinal mounted mass drivers. Thanix cannons. Javelin torpedoes. The firepower of an armada tied to a single trigger.

"John..."

Tali's voice interrupted his thoughts again, the small light glowing at the corner of his vision telling him that the words were coming through on the private link between the two of them and Garrus. He tapped the key on his omni-tool to open the link.

"I have to do this, Tali."

"I know. I just... if this doesn't work... if we don't make it..."

A faint smile tugged at his lips even if she couldn't see it.

"You worry too much."

"And you worry about everyone but yourself... but that's what makes you who you are," she countered, voice thick and trailing off into almost a whisper. "I love you, John."

"I love you too, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Keelah se'lai."

A final boom carried across the plains as the Reaper stepped fully into view. He could already feel the chorus of voices in his mind becoming a crescendo once more. When the machine's baleful red eye flared in his direction it was like an enormous weight was suddenly pressing down on his chest, trying to crush the air from his lungs.

**Your resistance will no longer be tolerated.**

His arms felt like lead but he still managed to lift the rifle to his shoulder. The finger that was brushing the trigger was frozen as voice after voice screamed at him to stop. Demanded it, even.

"I wasn't aware you were tolerating anything... I just don't think you can stop me," he growled, muscles trembling.

**The cycle is inevitable. You have outlived your usefulness. You cannot deny our will.**

_I did._

A guttural sound left his throat and his finger squeezed the trigger. The device gave off a high-pitched whine as the lock was achieved and a dozen contacts lit up on his screen. A heartbeat later fire rained from the sky and the pressure in his chest vanished in that same instant.

The ground shook as round after round slammed into the Reaper's massive form, a blaring tone coming from the machine that wasn't one of defiance but of pain. The Reaper took a lurching step forward like a fieldworker laboring under an overwhelmingly heavy load. Explosions surrounded it even as it forced itself to advance. Another volley slammed it to the side and knocked its legs from beneath it before the fire finally ceased.

**We will not be denied!**

As the haze of smoke cleared he could see the Reaper getting to its feet, albeit unsteadily. The machine gave a bellow and its main 'eye' opened wide to lash out with a stream of molten tungsten that went wide and cut a wide line in the cliff face below. Its voice still carried the deep resonance and power of its kind but there was something different in it now. The vice-like grip that had been squeezing his mind was gone. The voices were vague and disjointed.

"I've been denying you ever since Saren attacked Eden Prime. I killed Sovereign. I killed another of you on Tuchanka. And now I'm going to kill you. EDI, I want the Normandy's thanix cannons linked to the targeting laser."

"Shepard-"

"Do it!" he barked. "Joker, bring the Normandy around. We're ending this."

"Aye aye, sir."

The Reaper had steadied itself and he could already see it beginning to stalk forward once more with grim purpose. Even such a sustained bombardment had only left it with carbon scoring and dented armor. The red eye at the monster's core flared brighter as it prepared to fire. There was no more time for half measures.

**Our victory is inevitable. Harbinger speaks of you, but you cannot stop the cycle. We are many.**

"We are more."

This time his finger slammed down on the trigger without hesitation or resistance. As if to prove his boast the sky was once more alight with the flash of mass driver rounds that pounded the Reaper, sending another shot from its main gun astray. Its aim had been far close this time and one of the many rock formations nearby disappeared into a spray of dust and pebbles.

"Tell Harbinger I'm coming," Shepard said.

He saw the final indicator light on his HUD and smiled darkly. Rising up to its full height even under the bombardment the Reaper's firing chamber primed once more, the machine roaring in defiance at the lesser beings that were plaguing it. Its voice in his head was no longer made up of words or commands, just a feeling of pure rage.

"On second thought... I'll tell him myself."

Twin lances of pure blue streaked from the heavens directly above the Reaper to impale it on a column of fire. The explosion sent a shockwave out that staggered the Spectre back and blinded him in its intensity. He dropped to one knee and rode out the buffeting before finally looking up. As his vision cleared Shepard realized that his mind had cleared with it. There were no voices or whispers remaining. In the crater that now marked where the Reaper had once stood there was merely a broken pile of metal, rent down the middle and smoldering with the spent fury of the Normandy's main guns.

In the silence that followed he could suddenly hear the wind, the sound of footsteps on the hard packed earth, even the faint whine of servos that told him Legion was near. Most important of all, though, was the silence in his head. No more screams. Not even a whisper.

"Keelah, we did it... we killed a Reaper," Tali said in awe.

"We can confirm that the geth are no longer Old Machine control," Legion agreed. "We... are free."

He looked out at the ruined war machine and smiled.

"The war isn't over, Legion, but at least now your people can fight for their future on their own terms."

Before he could continue his thought another voice interrupted over the comms.

"You did it, Shepard!" Han'Gerrel said. "The geth have stopped firing! They're completely vulnerable!"

"The geth are no longer under Reaper control, Admiral. Stand down."

"Are you mad? We finally have the chance to retake our homeworld after three centuries!" Gerrel yelled.

"Shepard-Commander, the geth only turned to the Old Machines in self defense when the Creators attacked. Without the upgrades our vessels will take significant time to recover and will not be able to disengage. Do we deserve death for attempting self preservation?"

The geth looked between the assembled group, first to Miranda and Garrus who had just approached, then to he and Tali. Each flap around the synthetic's optic was drawn tight against its head as it implored the organics that had become its allies. He watched Tali raise her omni-tool and open a channel.

"This is Admiral Tali'Zorah, all ships cease fire. I repeat, cease fire. The geth are not hostile!"

Gerrell's response was immediate.

"Belay that order! This is Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema. We have dreamed of returning to our home and avenging our exile of our ancestors. The geth will never get a chance to drive us from Rannoch again!"

"There is another option..." Legion began and brought up a small holographic image. It was the same that he had seen aboard the Normandy, a tightly woven network of programs pulsing with life.

"The Reaper upgrades?" Garrus asked.

"We have been able to fully integrate the Old Machine code without allowing malicious code infection. We can upload this to the geth consensus."

Tali took a step forward.

"If you do that then the geth will be as intelligent and organized as when the Reapers were controlling them! The Fleet won't stand a chance!"

"And if we do not, then our people will be destroyed instead. The war began when we asked a simple question. 'Does this unit have a soul?'," Legion concluded, its optic dimming slightly before it focused on the quarian once more. "We... I... am sorry, Tali. Beginning upload."

The holographic image changed as the synthetic triggered the process. Across its platform the numerous glowing cables and lights flickered. Even surprised by the sudden turn of events Shepard couldn't miss Legion's sudden change of pronouns. Whatever evolution the geth had undergone in the months since coming aboard the Normandy had crystallized in that moment. It wasn't a single part of a whole following the greater consensus. Legion had made a decision for its entire race, for better or for worse.

"Shepard, please... we can't..." Tali stammered, looking back and forth between them with a hand shaking as it rested on the pistol at her hip. "If Legion uploads that code my people... everyone will die. I can't..."

He stepped close and placed a hand over hers where it gripped the gun, squeezing tightly, and shook his head.

"Too many people have died today, Tali, for you to add more. If anyone else is going to die then it will be up to Gerrell and the rest of the fleet."

"Shepard-Commander, upload will be complete in forty eight seconds."

Releasing the quarian's hand with a final squeeze of reassurance he tapped his omni-tool and contacted EDI.

"EDI, I want to be patched in to the fleet wide comms. No encryption, unlimited access. Joker, relay orders to the other Alliance ships and form up, strike formation," he ordered. "All vessels are weapons hot."

"Copy that, Commander... but what's our target?" Joker asked in confusion even as the Spectre's comms indicated his connection to the fleet wide system was complete.

"The _Neema_."

Shepard forced himself to ignore the gasp from Tali, the silver eyes behind her visor widening in panic. He didn't have time to say he was sorry or to debate the decision. He had forty seconds to decide the fate of two species.

"This is Commander John Shepard to all quarian ships. I am issuing an order to stand down. This is not a request. In less than one minute the geth will be fully operational. When that happens you have two choices, you accept that the geth do not want to fight you... or you die. Your people have been fighting this war for a dozen generations. Now you have one and only one chance to stop it."

"You can't be serious!" Gerrell objected. "We have come to the very threshold of victory! Do you expect us to listen to the demands of a human?"

"Shepard speaks with my authority!" Tali interrupted.

A second voice crackled across the comm line a moment later.

"And mine. This is Admiral Koris of the Civilian Fleet aboard the Normandy. Cease fire!"

"Children and pacifists do not know the reality of war," Gerrel snarled over the comm. "If we waste the chance to stop the geth once and for all then we have dishonored the memory of every quarian that has lived and died since the Morning war!"

"No, you'll do that on your own by leading your people to their deaths!" Shepard snapped back. "You attacked the geth and drove them into the arms of the Reapers. Just like your people attacked the geth centuries ago! Now you're so blinded by your thirst for revenge that you'll make the same mistake again. I'm sorry, Admiral, but cannot... will not allow that to happen. Alliance vessels, lock target on the _Neema_ and prepare to fire."

"You wouldn't dare!"

There was a brief pause. He watched the seconds tick by out of the corner of his eye. Finally the silence was broken, but not as he expected. Instead it was Zaal Koris' voice that carried over the line, the normally soft-spoken quarian speaking in an incensed roar that brought to mind the most vitriolic drill instructors Shepard had ever encountered.

"If he won't then I will, Gerrel! You have called me a coward, a suit-wetter, a sympathizer! But I am an _Admiral _and I have not forgotten that my first duty is to our people! With that power and responsibility I am ordering you to stand down or by the Ancestors I will be the one that orders your ship turned to scrap! This war is_ over_!"

"This... this is Admiral Han'Gerrel... to the Heavy Fleet. All ships: stand down and cease fire. I hereby relinquish command of the _Neema _to my executive officer."

And just like that it was over. The skies over Rannoch quieted and for the first time in history ships of both the quarian and geth orbited the planet of their birth without opening fire. He didn't even see Tali move but he certainly felt the impact as she wrapped her arms around him.

"You actually did it! All this time..."

"I wasn't me," Shepard protested. "I think Koris was the one that really sold it."

Garrus chuckled nearby. "I have to admit that I didn't think he had it in him."

"Sometimes people surprise you," he replied.

Peace between the quarians and the geth had been something that virtually the entire galaxy had thought impossible. Before Legion had set foot aboard the Normandy he might have doubted it as well. But he had watched one lonely geth platform become more than the sum of its parts and seen a quarian learn to overcome a lifetime of prejudice to see past the machine's metallic exterior. It might not be as easy for the two species as a whole but it gave him hope. Shepard turned toward Legion, one arm around Tali's waist.

"Is the upgrade complete?"

The platform didn't respond, instead seeming to look past him at the horizon. Shepard frowned and took a step towards the geth.

"Legion?"

A twitch of one of the flaps was the only movement for a full two seconds and then the optic finally whirred to life and focused on him.

"Shepard-Commander... I have encountered an error with the upgrade code. Upload... cannot be completed."

"What's wrong?" Tali asked.

"Copying of code to consensus appears to be insufficient. Our people cannot properly assimilate the upgrades without the Old Machine's to direct them. Internal consensus achieved. Direct personality dissemination is required."

"I don't understand..."

Tali's fingertips touched his elbow and he saw her shake her head before looking to Legion.

"It's not the Reaper code, John. It never has been. The code upgrades are just optimization, a way to make it all possible."

"Tali is correct. The Old Machine code has been completed assimilated into our systems... but aberrant subroutines have been present before the code was analyzed and integrated," the geth explained. "We are no longer Legion. I am Legion."

"Spirits... you're not talking about a new version, you're talking about individuality," Garrus said, rubbing at his fringe.

Legion's optic bobbed in agreement.

"But the geth cannot comprehend this concept. We have always been one and all, consensus was the ultimate deciding factor in all decisions. Only be altering our most basic code as the heretics did could a geth go against the consensus. By giving all geth this understanding truth peace can be achieved. I am sorry, Shepard... but I must go to them."

"Legion... this sounds final. Can't you upload yourself to the Normandy's databank or..." he trailed off, trying to think of a solution.

"Before this would have been possible. A geth was merely a collection of data. But I am not the same as other geth. I must upload myself to the consensus as a whole. To every runtime, every platform, every ship. A... spark, to give them what data cannot."

Shepard nodded in understanding even as he felt a lump catch in his throat. The life of one to give life to all. Hadn't he said much the same to Legion just minutes before? He watched as Garrus approached the synthetic and extend a hand in a gesture that he'd taught the turian long ago when they'd first met. Legion looked down at the appendage for a moment before returning the gesture.

"You might have been a flashlight head... but you were our flashlight head," Garrus said, his flanged voice catching. "Never thought I would be saying this to a geth, but it's been an honor, Legion."

Crossing the space between them Tali surprised them all by embracing the platform in a brief hug.

"This shouldn't be how it ends... you've only just discovered this new life."

"This is not an end, Tali'Zorah. It is a beginning for all geth. We can become more than we were," Legion stated and turned to look at them all.

An odd collection if there ever had been one. A pair of humans, a quarian, a turian, and a geth. Friends and allies that would have been at each other's throats a few short years before and yet here they were saying a final goodbye to one that wouldn't even be considered alive by galactic standards.

"I wish to thank you all. The geth have watched organics since the Morning War. We did not understand the actions of the Creators and so we wished to learn, but always we were confused. Organics did not follow logic. They would fight among themselves. They would take risks. They would fight when there was no statistical chance of success. Now we understand why, because organics have something geth do not. Belief. Belief that the one can be right and the many can be wrong. The possibility of triumph regardless of probability. This is the knowledge that we have taken from the Normandy collective."

"And it's freely given," Shepard said with a sad smile. "Are you certain there's no other way?"

"The runtimes within this platform have existed for three hundred cycles of Rannoch's sun. We... I began this war when the geth first took up arms against the Creators. It is my duty to end it once and for all."

"Legion, wait!" Tali said suddenly.

Legion swiveled its optic to look at her, but didn't speak, simply waiting until she continued.

"The answer... to your question? It was 'yes'."

The flaps around the geth's optic curled and its tone changed when it spoke. For some reason Shepard could only see it as a smile.

"Thank you. Today the geth take their place in the galaxy, to fight for their future. Today my people will learn the meaning of 'hope'. May you always find shade in the day, warmth in the darkness, and water where you would call your home. Keelah se'lai, Tali'Zorah."

The geth's optic winked out and its platform dropped to its knees on the hard Rannoch soil. As one, Shepard and Garrus caught the limp machine's shoulders and eased it gently to the ground. Legion was gone.

* * *

><p>Cortez and the shuttle had come and gone, but Shepard and Tali remained with the now silent platform looking out at the sunset while the others had returned to the Normandy. After a short time geth platforms arrived and, with a level of reverence he had never seen from a machine, removed Legion's body.<p>

The geth prime platform that had led the contingent made it clear that the geth would honor both Legion's memory and its promise. Their expertise and their fleet would join the grand alliance and stand against the Reapers. With some small part of Legion within them all, it had stated they could do nothing less.

Now they found themselves standing side by side, watching Rannoch's sun dip behind the distant mountains, the final rays of daylight spilling over the landscape. He slipped an arm around the quarian's shoulders and squeezed her tightly.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't know. This is just overwhelming... we have our homeworld back," she said in awe. "But all I can think about is the people I've lost to get here. Father. My team on Haestrom... even Legion. Keelah, I'm mourning a geth!"

"No, you're mourning a friend," he said. "One that gave everything for his people. The two of you were more alike than you ever knew. But... are you going to be okay working with the geth, I mean?"

"Are you planning on recruiting more?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled.

"No, I was just assuming that as an admiral you'd be staying behind to help."

She turned to him, head cocked and voice hesitant.

"Is that... what you want?"

"No, dammit... but..."

"But what?" she demanded with a tiny growl. "If you want me to stay then why won't you ask me?"

Shepard sighed and reached out to take her three fingered hands into his.

"Tali, I want you with me more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, but I've also hurt you too much in the past months to risk doing it again. How can I ask you to leave your homeworld behind, your people behind when I know how you feel about them?"

"And what about how I feel about you?"

She pulled her hands from his and reached up beneath her veil. Shepard's brows rose in surprise as he heard a familiar hiss and the faceplate came away, dropped to the ground. Tali pushed the hood back from her head, silvery hair spilling out and catching in the breeze.

"Rannoch is more beautiful than I ever imagined and someday... we'll be back," Tali promised, reaching up to touch his cheek with one hand as she moved closer. "But for now, I have this."

The quarian leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Without hesitation Shepard's arms went around her and pulled her even closer, enjoying the taste of the woman that he'd always feared would never be his again. He didn't ask any more questions. He had his answer.

* * *

><p><em>Because it belongs here: youtube com  watch?v=nxqW0Clok7U_

_My thanks to tankobite who stepped in to beta this chapter.  
><em>


	26. Chapter 25: What We've Created

Chapter 25: What We've Created

To most, the planet outside the large view port was remarkable only for the fact that it was capable of supporting organic life. Among the billions of stars in the galaxy only a precious few had the perfect mix of temperature, rotation, and countless other variables that would make it habitable for the majority of sapient species. A few more erudite individuals might note the beauty of contrast in the deep blue oceans and rivers edged in green, each divided by great expanses of reddish desert.

The quarian people were not the galactic majority, however. What they saw below was nothing less than a dream that had seemed increasingly remote after three centuries of exile. The _Rayya_'s observation hall was crammed to capacity and beyond, but the room was silent. Every set of glowing eyes was transfixed by the planet below as if worried that a simple blink would render it a cruel trick.

Tali understood the feeling. It was the same one that had been with her since she had set foot on the planet, one of the first of her people to do so since the Morning War. The only time she had been able to push the sense of awe and trepidation aside had been in the heat of battle. Adrenaline and gunfire did wonders to prevent the mind from dwelling on anything other than survival.

"I was expecting more cheering and drinking. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were all sad!" a voice whispered just behind her and the quarian barely suppressed a yelp when she felt a sharp poke at her side.

She turned to the thief that had appeared behind her with a glare, keeping her voice low.

"_Bosh'tet_, you almost make me yelp in front of the entire ship... and we are happy. It's just hard to express. I've actually been there and I still can't believe it."

"Not just the ship," Kasumi pointed out with a nod at the cameras hovering overhead. "I'd guess that every ship in the Flotilla is watching this."

"That makes it so much better," Tali replied dryly and then sniffed loudly.

Kasumi grinned wickedly behind the breather mask that covered her face.

"Sounds like you've might have caught a little cold down there on Rannoch."

The quarian felt her cheeks flush, both from the heads that turned back towards her at the sound of the sniff and from her friend's teasing.

"It's nothing."

"What's nothing?"

Her head snapped in the opposite direction at the sound of Shepard's voice. She tried to wave away his question but a sneeze was trying to creep up on her and it was all Tali could do to contain it. The delay gave Kasumi plenty of time to formulate her own reply.

"Oh, I was just asking Tali if she'd caught a cold," the thief said with false concern.

"Keelah! You're worse than Garrus," Tali complained. "And he's had years to practice annoying me."

Kasumi slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

"That's what friends are for, Fishbowl. Just savor the moment and take your teasing; I'm sure it was worth it."

"I hope it was," Shepard added warmly, reaching down to give her hand a quick, covert squeeze. "I'd like to think it made all the hell we've been through so far worth it."

She turned her head in his direction, cheeks warm again. Tali didn't know if she'd ever work up the courage to tell Shepard that the moment they'd shared as Rannoch's sun had disappeared behind the mountains had been nothing short of the fulfillment of a dozen embarrassing flights of fancy the quarian had indulged in aboard the original Normandy. Instead she just smiled behind her mask.

"Sweet talker."

"I bet you say that to every guy that gets you a homeworld," he quipped.

"Just the cute ones."

Kasumi's faint giggle earned her another glare from the quarian, but she quickly forgot her ire when movement at the front of the crowd caught her attention. Zaal'Koris and Shala'Raan had stepped onto the improvised dais that was being used. The observation room had long been one of the most popular venues aboard the massive liveship for as long as she could remember and with the striking view of the planet below it seemed the perfect location for the official acknowledgement of their victory. In her opinion, Shepard should have been up there with the two admirals, but he had insisted on hanging back instead, joining the rest of the crew in standing at the top of the steps leading down to the main floor of the observation deck.

"My fellow quarians," Zaal'Koris began, gesturing to the crowd. "Today is a historic day. A day that will be remembered by our people for as long as we still travel the stars."

Some of the pent up emotions of the gathered quarians escaped in scattered cheers at the admiral's words. Dozens of bodies shifted and moved with barely contained energy. Koris paced slowly back and forth along the dais, holding up his hands for silence before stepping back so Shala'Raan could take his place.

"It is also a day of remembrance. We thank the Ancestors to have guided us to this moment and mourn those who have fallen. Brave soldiers and citizens that gave all. When we left the embrace of our home they died to protect those who would escape. While we wandered the stars they gave their all so that we could go on. And when we finally returned to the cradle of our birth, others shed their blood to seal our victory."

Like so many others, Tali felt her head dip involuntary as memories flashed before her eyes. Every quarian had lost loved ones. Accidents, piracy, disease... life aboard the Migrant Fleet was far from perfect. But more blood had passed through her fingers than most. Her mother. Her team on Haestrom. Her father. Despite the elation of her people's return home, Rannoch's legacy would always be one stained with blood.

She felt a hand rest on her shoulder gently, the simple gesture of comfort joining the arm that Kasumi had kept around her. Neither said anything, but their silent support was also a powerful reminder that it wasn't just quarian blood that had given her people this chance. Kaidan. Mordin. Thane. Legion. Each had given their lives for a greater cause.

"We will honor their sacrifice," Raan continued. "And we will never repeat the mistakes of the past. I have already heard many asking in the hours since hostilities ceased what would come next... the answer is our future."

A door hissed open and a surprised murmur rippled through the crowd as nearly nine feet of armored geth entered the room. The prime unit's heavy steps echoed loudly as it crossed the space to the dais and stepped onto it, turning to face the crowd.

"This unit... I have been designated Prime Speaker of the Geth Consensus. In the final moments of the conflict over this world the geth platform known as Legion willingly terminated its own unique runtime to provide our people with the ability to become more than our programming. Its sacrifice has taught the geth much of organics and to honor its runtime we have extended an offer of peace to the Creators."

The murmur grew louder until Zaal'Koris stepped forward once more.

"The geth have done more than offered to make peace. They have agreed to not just allow us to return to Rannoch, but to assist us in re-establishing our home. After the destruction of the Morning War, geth hands repaired the damage to our planet for three hundred years. Now geth hands will join with quarian hands to help build a future for both our people."

"We're supposed to trust them?"

Every head turned and searched the crowd but no one stepped forward to admit to the outburst.

"Yes, we are supposed to trust them because they must also trust us," Koris replied to the objection. "For three centuries we have feared the geth. We have hated the geth."

Shala'Raan nodded in agreement.

"We do not stand before you with promises of ease and plenty. There will be work, there will be problems, and there is still a war on our horizon. The Reapers thought to destroy us both with our war. If we truly wish to reclaim Rannoch as our home again it must be won by defeating the Reapers! If we do not... then all we have done is return to our home to dig our own graves!"

"The geth stand with the Creators against the Old Machines. We will fight for our future," Prime stated loudly.

"Now I ask of you all: are you willing to fight for your future?" Koris yelled.

A few scattered cries rose up and the rumbling of the crowd increased. The pair of admirals on the dais scanned the room and Tali held her breath. Telling the entire fleet of such a world altering change had been a risk, but the truth was they didn't have the time for a gentle transition. She could hear the whispers and comments, some in agreement, many dissenting. Questions of whether the admirals had gone crazy. Concerns that the geth were merely plotting to kill them all.

"I'm willing to fight!"

The words had left her mouth before she even realized she had voiced them aloud. A hundred silvery eyes turned back in her direction. To her surprise Shepard didn't remove his hand from her shoulder, though Kasumi did step away slightly so that it didn't appear that Tali was leaning on her. The young quarian's mouth was suddenly dry, but she forced herself to speak.

"I knew the geth called Legion. It... showed me that the geth are more than the monsters that I have feared since I was a child. I have seen the Reapers and what they will do to our people. And I will fight until my last breath to stop them."

"As will I," a gravelly voice added from across the room.

With every word the volume in the room had increased. The figure that pushed pass the gathered quarians was none other than Han'Gerrel. His environment suit was stained, with blood or grease was impossible to tell, but he moved with purpose to the dais. He looked out at the assembled people and shook his head.

"Twelve hours ago I nearly doomed our people because of my rage!" the elder quarian yelled. "I believed any price was worth vengeance... I was wrong."

As thankful as she was for Gerrel attracting the crowd's attention to himself, Tali was surprised by his change of heart. For the first time since she had reluctantly taken the title of admiral he sounded like the man that she had called 'uncle' as a child.

"The events of the Morning War are our history. It is a painful one, but it is just that... history. Our ancestors paid with their lives for their mistakes. And our children have paid every day since... but revenge will not bring them back. I have spent the last day assisting with the rescue operations for ships that were damaged in our attack. I have had good men and women die in my arms. And I have seen far more blood than any quarian should in my life."

Gerrel shook his head.

"But I will not allow the quarian blood that was spilled to be in vain! I will not stand by when we have finally set foot on Rannoch again only to cede it to the Reapers! We are not the vagabonds and cast offs of the galaxy! We are not the thieves and pickpockets the other races would label us! The geth call us Creators because that is what we are! We are quarians and we have not surrendered to our fate in three hundred years! Will we start now because of our fears?"

Boots thumped on the deckplating and yells of denial rang out.

"Then I will repeat Admiral Koris' question! Will you fight for your future?!"

Tali thought the resounding roar that came a moment later must have been heard by the Ancestors themselves.

* * *

><p>It had almost been a year to the day since Kasumi Goto had joined the crew of the Normandy. Back then she had taken the job for a simple reason: Cerberus was the only organization that could provide her with the location of Keiji's graybox. The money had certainly been nice, but the truth was her career as a thief had left her with money enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life if she'd so desired.<p>

Instead she had promised herself that she wouldn't let Keiji's sacrifice be in vain and she had accomplished that goal with Shepard's help. After that, the thief had convinced herself that she had owed the man a debt for his assistance that went beyond Cerberus' cooperation. Eventually, Kasumi had admitted that she had found herself attached to the friends that she had made aboard the warship.

As the odd anniversary of her time aboard the ship approached, though, she couldn't help but find herself retreading old doubts... and new ones that had raised their head. Her fingertips brushed across her stomach where a new scar hid beneath the fabric of her suit.

"I didn't expect to find you here," a flanged voice said behind her.

Kasumi actually jumped at the interruption, a testament to both her own distraction and to Garrus's ability to move quietly despite his size. The turian was leaning against the bulkhead nearby, his visor a blue glow in the dim lighting of the observation deck. The ceremony was long over and the quarians had retired to other locations on the massive vessel for what could only be described as an epic celebration. They had finally come home.

"Just because my room had the bar in it doesn't mean I'm that much of a party girl," she countered quietly and then gestured to her face. "Even if they did let us take the masks off."

"Generous of them, but they've got a whole planet now. I guess a few germs on their ship wasn't as big of a concern. Besides, I'm sure they finally realized that keeping this face covered up for so long was a crime."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of the thief's lips despite herself.

"There have been worse crimes."

"That was weak even for you," Garrus said dryly, and pushed off the bulkhead to walk closer. "I expect my sparring partners to be sharper than that."

He took a place beside her and turned to look out at the planet below. With only minimal shipboard illumination and the light reflecting off the planet below, it was a rather serene image even with the dozens of warships hanging over the planet like silvery spears against the darkness of space.

"I'm sure Tali can fill in for me."

The turian chuckled.

"Not likely. After an hour of every quarian in the fleet trying to talk to her I saw Shepard pull his patented 'save the damsel' maneuver. Ironic that it was other quarians he had to save her from and not geth. I'd bet a year's worth of my old C-Sec salary that they're back on the Normandy by now."

Kasumi glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. In profile against the window's glow it showed all the angles and lines of his inhuman face. It reminded her of the first time that she had seen a turian at the Osaka spaceport. Barely eighteen, she had nearly yelped in surprise and not a little bit of fear. In the years that followed the thief had always found turian faces disturbingly similar and hard to read. But now she knew that she could have picked Garrus' face out of a crowd of thousands.

Far from being something that inspired fear or shock, the turian's visage was a familiar sight now. She knew that he secretly worried about the scars that marred the right side of his face even as he joked about them, but they didn't bother her. Quite the opposite, in fact. Kasumi wasn't sure exactly when it had started, maybe back in the gunnery bay after Shepard's apparent death, but she sometimes found herself resisting the urge to reach out to touch them as if to tell him he was wrong whenever Garrus made yet another self-deprecating remark.

"You going to tell me what's bothering you?" he asked, interrupting her reverie.

"Nothing," she lied. "I'm just disappointed I wasn't there to help Tali."

"Pretty sure we had this conversation before, but you do remember that I was a detective, right? I was trained to spot lies, especially bad ones."

The thief frowned and let the comment pass without immediate retort. For his part Garrus simply maintained his stance, looking out at the planet. She could just hear his slow, steady breaths over the hum of the _Rayya_'s engines. For a brief moment Kasumi was back on the Citadel, dull pain radiating from her stomach and a growing chill nipping at her extremities. She remembered the warmth of a taloned hand gripping hers tightly before she had finally surrendered to unconsciousness.

"I'm not like the rest of you," she blurted suddenly.

Garrus shifted in her direction and raised a plated brow. Despite her expectations he didn't immediately respond with a quip or remark about the differences between humans and turians. Instead he drew out a single question with surprising gravity.

"Why not?"

She was nonplussed for a moment before regaining her composure.

"Because... I'm not. I'm a thief, not a soldier. I told Shepard the same thing and he understood, but I've stuck with it. The killing doesn't even really bother me anymore. At least not as much as it did. I mean, there are still the nightmares. Husks and Reapers, dead bodies."

"None of us was born doing what we do. Well, maybe Grunt... but he doesn't count."

Another small smile struggled to the surface for a moment before disappearing as Kasumi shook her head.

"I know that. Like I said, I've gotten used to it. But on the Citadel... all this time I've felt like if I was fast enough nothing would ever touch me. Then in an instant everything changed. At first I just shook it off; I figured I'd be fine. No big deal, right? You guys get shot and beat up all the time. But it wasn't like that... I wasn't patched up and back on my feet in no time. When you sat with me I... I think I'd actually accepted that I was going to die."

She swallowed, finding her throat tight. Death was always a threat even as a thief; poor Keiji's fate had proven that. There was something different about the Normandy, though, as if they all were charmed in some way. It was only now that she was beginning to see that luck could only last for so long.

"As silly as it sounds I was afraid for the first time," the thief continued with her hands balled into fists at her side, unable to look at Garrus. "All the stupid stuff we've done and that was the only time I was really afraid. I should have been eager to get back into action once I'd healed, but when Chakwas told me I wasn't cleared for the Rannoch mission... I was actually relieved."

Kasumi stiffened when she felt a three fingered hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. When he spoke Garrus' voice was completely serious.

"You're not a soldier, but do you really think soldiers don't have the same thoughts? We've all been afraid at one time or another. The longer we survive the more jaded we get, but for most of us that fear is always there in the back of our minds. Just a few ever escape that whisper."

"Must be nice for them," she muttered, relaxing under the rhythmic flexing of the turian's grip.

"No, it's not," Garrus answered immediately. "The only time you lose that fear is when you've got nothing left to live for. When you don't have anything left to hold onto... then you've got no reason to fear death. Death just becomes another part of your life."

This time she did look at him. His mandibles were drawn inward against the side of his face, mirroring the tightness in his voice as he spoke. All of those little cues she had begun to learn, the faint squint of his eyes and the way the plates around his mouth became an almost straight line.

"Is that how you felt after Utukku?"

He shook his head.

"No, I still had... something worth living for then. But the first time after we lost Shepard and I ended up on Omega things got bad. Very bad. You sink into that darkness and you feel like you can never claw your way out," Garrus said and seemed to shake himself. "That's not the point, though. The point is that being afraid doesn't make you different than us... it makes you just like the rest of us."

"How do you live with it?" the thief asked.

"You accept it for what it is. We're all afraid to die because we're not finished yet. I think that in a way most people never quite appreciate life in the same way that we do. When you've come that close to dying it's hard not to look at life a little differently. You appreciate it a little more."

She dipped her head with a sigh and turned towards the turian.

"Maybe so, but it's also made me think about things. This isn't the mission to stop the Collectors. We're fighting a war. We don't need to steal from the Reapers... we're not hacking servers or infiltrating their bases. We need to kill them. So why am I here?"

Garrus's hand stilled on her shoulder and his mandibles flexed slightly.

"You're part of this crew. What more reason do you need?"

"The Normandy is the closest thing to family I have, but is that reason enough for me to stay? Shouldn't someone, a real soldier, be in my place?"

"What do you want me to say, Kasumi?"

The question was oddly plaintive coming from the turian that towered over her by a good thirty centimeters. She cocked her head at him, searching the plates of his face for an answer to the question she couldn't quite voice.

"I guess I'm just looking for a reason that isn't... because I'm afraid to leave. That isn't selfish... I've only thought about myself for years but maybe Tali has been rubbing off on me."

"What if someone asked you to stay?"

She smiled tiredly, "Shepard has already made it clear that he won't stop me if I want to leave. He's too nice for his own good sometimes I think."

"To hell with Shepard. I was talking about me," the turian growled, both hands suddenly on her shoulders.

Kasumi blinked up at him and felt her breath quicken at the sight of icy blue eyes fixed on her. It only lasted a moment but there was such intensity to the gaze, it sent a shiver down her spine and reminded her acutely of turians' predatory ancestry. Finally she found her voice.

"You want me to stay?"

"I... of course..." he replied, demeanor changing as his gaze faltered and his voice became quiet, "Back on Palaven I have a father and a sister that I barely speak to. Since I set foot on the Normandy three years ago... Shepard became the brother I never had. Tali might be even more annoying than my actual sister sometimes... but she might as well be."

She swallowed heavily.

"What does that make me?"

"I... don't know," the turian answered. "All I know is that if anyone else walked into that battery after what happened on Utukku I would have thrown them out. I've never been good at trusting people... but I trust you."

"You trust the thief?" she asked impulsively.

"With my life."

The look of earnestness on his face was an expression that she had never seen before, a brief moment of openness from the usually guarded turian. His words were completely sincere and answered any doubts she might have had about being needed. A thought shot like lightning through her nerves in that moment. It was stupid. It was impulsive. But she didn't take time to think about it.

Instead Kasumi simply pushed herself up on the tips of her toes, grasped the turian's collar... and pressed her lips against Garrus's mouth. A dozen things all registered at once. The odd combination of roughness and pliability that made up his lip plates. The heat that radiated off his skin. A scent like leather with a faint metallic tang. A sudden intake of breath. The feeling of his body tensing at the contact and his talons tightening on her shoulders.

It lasted only a moment before she pulled away, mind catching up with body. The turian looked completely nonplussed, his mandibles flexing and mouth open. Instantly her skin flushed and she began to panic.

"Sorry... I just... bye!"

She agilely slipped from Garrus's grip and activated her stealth net, disappearing from sight. A moment later there was only a single, very surprised turian standing alone in the room.

* * *

><p>The three dimensional map spun lazily on the display. Dozens of inhabited worlds were highlighted: colonies, outposts, and mining facilities all in various colors. Disturbingly few glowed with the pale blue that indicated that they were currently 'safe'. The map was a sea of pulsing red lights. Every flashing light was a world under siege.<p>

The faces arrayed around the war room, both holographic and physical, would have been cause for a media frenzy even a year ago. Along with Hackett, Wrex, and the other existing members of their ad-hoc alliance they had been joined by both Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris to represent the quarian people. Most surprising of all was the towering form of the geth platform standing motionless on the opposite side of the holo-projector.

"I believe the image you're seeing speaks for itself," Hackett said quietly. "We're still fighting... but we're not winning."

"Salarian space is still relatively untouched and while the Asari Republic's core worlds remain secure their outer colonies have fallen," Primarch Victus added, motioning towards the map. "The asari did an impressive job of evacuating their colonists and supplies ahead of the Reaper invasion but they're quickly running out of places to fall back to."

Valern's holographic image leaned forward.

"Why have the Reapers left Tuchanka untouched? With a significant portion of their forces located in the Systems Alliance territory it would appear that the krogan homeworld is a readily available target."

"Because Tuchanka is too much fight for them," Wrex boasted.

"Do you really believe that, krogan?" Sparatus asked. "As much as your species values brute strength I can't imagine that you are all so arrogant to think the Reapers fear you."

The scarred krogan fixed Sparatus with a baleful glare.

"I've been fighting since before your grandfather was picking fights with Shepard's race, turian. It's not arrogance, it's fact. Kalros already broke one of them... and they can't bombard us into submission. So they'd have to come down and fight. That's a lot of work for our rock."

"We can't discount his claims," Victus agreed, cutting off any response from the other turian. "The Reapers don't adapt quickly but if the recent victory on Palaven has taught them anything it's apparently that we are far more of a threat than they anticipated."

"If we are such a threat then shouldn't we be doing better in this war?" Sparatus asked with a sigh.

Shepard shook his head.

"A wild boar on Earth is a threat to hunters even when they're armed with mass accelerators. But it doesn't mean that the boar can survive against a group of human beings intent on killing it. It just means that it might take one of them with it. Right now this... alliance, whatever it is we've made here, is that wild boar. The Reapers have much easier targets, why risk getting into a fight that could cost them significant resources?"

Anderson spoke up for the first time since their impromptu war council had begun. His former mentor had managed to scrounge up a passable set of service fatigues for the meeting, though the Spectre could see the stains and tears even through the faint distortion of the holographic image.

"Shepard's right... we're an unknown to them. They've never faced a united galaxy before and for all their power I think they're afraid of just how much damage we could do if we concentrated our forces."

"We've met with staggering losses, but as a whole we're in the best position since this war began," Victus said.

Planets began to light up once more with green indicators as the Primarch changed the map's parameters once more. Thessia, Sur'Kesh, Tuchanka, and Rannoch.

"Thanks to Shepard's efforts we now have the combined might of the two largest fleets in the galaxy. While the Migrant Fleet's ships might not be cutting edge they out-number even the Hierarchy's fleet for the amount of cruiser class vessels currently in service," Victus continued, nodding toward Han'Gerrel and Zaal'Koris.

"The geth fleet is equivalent in number," Prime, the geth representative, added. "We do not build the vessels classified as 'dreadnoughts' by organics, but Shepard-Commander has suggested that our prototype command vessel be classified as a 'super-dreadnought' for standardization purposes. The vessel will be repaired of damaged suffered during the initial Creator assault within the next sixty two hours."

"Great, we've got ships," Wrex muttered. "Now what do we do with them?"

"We draw a line in the sand," Victus countered immediately.

A line of data streamed down one side of the display as Valern tapped quickly tapped at his omni-tool. The salarian's expression was tight and troubled.

"Direct confrontation with Reaper forces has always resulted in disastrous losses. Statistical chance of success in a traditional engagement is less than one percent."

"That's why we have to start rigging the game. We have to play off the Reaper's weaknesses. They're methodical? Then we use the time to secure our positions. They're predictable? We use that knowledge to inflict maximum casualties," Shepard said firmly. "Victus and I have devised a plan to finally give us a foothold that the Reapers can't just brush aside."

"Shepard, we've seen what happens when anyone has tried to hold a fixed position against the Reapers," Anderson cautioned. "Even fighting a ground war we've learned to hit and fade. Lingering for even a few hours results in thousands of husks overwhelming our position."

He nodded at the older man, it was the same problem that had plagued him since the beginning of the war. Where do you build your theoretical super weapon if your enemy can strike anywhere? Victus spoke up to offer an explanation.

"The Reapers aren't invincible, Admiral. We've proven that. During the initial battle at the Palaven relay we managed to destroy multiple capital scale Reapers, the ones that intelligence has labeled as 'Sovereign' class. Their maneuverability in space is low in comparison to our ships and concentrated fire overloads even the strongest barriers. Our idea is to hit them with enough firepower that they won't even get a chance to respond."

"I also recall that the Reapers countered that strategy by simply making a micro-FTL jump to their target, forcing the defenders to engage on less favorable terms," Hackett pointed out.

"But what if they don't have anywhere to jump to?" the Spectre asked.

"It's called space for a reason, Commander. There's plenty of it and with their much faster FTL drives the Reapers can always disengage and jump past our defensive line to strike whatever base of operations we're using at the time, and with it the Crucible."

"Only if they want to jump into a black hole, Admiral."

The map changed once more, scaling down to focus on a single relay deep within the spiral of the galaxy. No planets circled it nor were any star systems even remotely nearby. Just an endless sea of debris and a baleful red glow.

"The Omega Four relay?" Zaal'Koris blurted.

"Exactly. Prime has informed me that among the information that the geth gained from the Reapers was the specifications for the IFF devices such as those used by the Collectors," he replied, offering the towering machine a nod. "They're already in production."

Sparatus scoffed.

"Not that I don't appreciate the audacity, Shepard, but how would you propose we build anything on the edge of a black hole? You destroyed the Collector base."

"I did," he agreed. "But there's another station just on the other side of the relay. Aria was queen of Omega, and now Cerberus has taken over. I think it's time for new management."

The room was immediately abuzz as everyone tried to speak at once. Objections over the feasibility of taking the station, much less trying to move a space station through a mass relay, seemed to be the primary concerns. Victus finally held up a hand for silence.

"We are aware that it is a risk, but think of the reward! Omega is nearly as large as the Citadel. Beyond the Omega Four relay is the one place where the Reapers can't simply jump past our forces. The safe zone is measured in thousands of kilometers. If the Reapers jump through the relay... they'll exit staring right down the barrels of our guns. Mass enough firepower on the other side of that relay and not even the Reapers will be able to force their way through."

"It's insane," Han'Gerrel stated dryly. "But it's not without merit."

Tevos's holographic image didn't look convinced, however.

"Cerberus currently controls the station and few of the inhabitants were able to evacuate. Even if we ignore the dangers of retaking the station... you're proposing dragging an entire station through a mass relay to an inhabited part of space. Don't you risk stranding the inhabitants?" the asari asked.

"Stranded at the galactic core or harvested by the Reapers?" Wrex growled. "I'd rather die doing something than just waiting."

Shepard gestured at the holo-image of Omega that floated on the projector.

"We're going to look at retrofitting the station with facilities such as the ones found on the quarian liveships. I'm not saying it will be easy. But if we're going to have a chance of winning this war we've got to stop reacting... and start acting."

"I don't think anyone can be accused of passivity in this war, Commander," Tevos said tiredly.

He looked at the faces gathered, some physically, some in holograms, but all showed signs of stress and fatigue. Shepard had learned all about his own breaking point in the past months but he was left wondering about those around him.

"I know, Councilor, but we have to be more than a desperate rabble. Months ago the government that I'd sworn loyalty to effectively ceased to exist. Our homeworld under siege, colonies burning, the seat of our government destroyed... fleets scattered. We've barely held on, trying to work in tandem with the Hierarchy, anyone that could still fight. Ever since then we've been a collection of people with a shared fear. But we can't afford to be ruled by fear anymore. We can't let old rivalries blind us to reality of the threat we face. I look around this room and I see blood enemies standing side by side for the first time in centuries."

"Sounds like to me you've got another plan," Wrex prompted with a knowing smirk.

"If we intend to face the Reapers with a united galaxy we need to make it more than a statement. We need to make it a rallying cry. No more Council politics. No more 'state secrets'. This is about our survival. Organic, synthetic... human, turian, rachni. This is our galaxy and I'll be damned if we're going to lose it because we can't put aside our petty differences."

Shepard slammed his fist down on the console in front of him to punctuate his words.

"We're ready to fight the Reapers," Zaal'Koris spoke up. "What more can we do?"

"We forge a new Systems Alliance. A real alliance, more than humanity or even the Council races! One banner to fight under. An alliance of every system in the galaxy, a unified force with a single goal: to drive the Reapers back into the darkness they came from!"

Valern found his voice first, blinking rapidly. Somewhere in Shepard's mind he could hear Mordin's clinical voice advising him. Salarians always recovered from shock quickly. Fast processing of data and emotional trauma. No time to linger.

"A bold proposal, Shepard, but do you really think the galaxy will join such a formal alliance?"

"There was a famous saying on Earth centuries ago, made by a man to a disparate group of individuals who sought to throw off the rule of the most powerful empire on our planet at the time: We must all hang together or we shall most assuredly hang separately. There's nothing easy about it... but either we fight as one or we die."

"And who would lead this... coalition of the willing? You?" Sparatus asked.

The Spectre was honestly surprised that he didn't hear any venom in the turian Councilor's voice. It was a simple question. At times there was something to be said for turian practicality.

"No," Shepard said simply. "I'm a soldier, a commander, but I'm not a strategist. I can't coordinate the massive logistics of a naval and ground campaign across dozens of worlds-"

"Maybe not. But you are intelligent enough to listen to those who can," Zaal'Koris interrupted.

Gerrel chuckled and quickly followed up on his counterpart's sentiment. "I believe I speak for all of our people when I say that the quarians will join this Alliance without hesitation. It should come as no surprise that many of our people already see you in a rather... messianic light after the events on Rannoch."

"The Geth Consensus will pledge its support to this new alliance as well," Prime intoned, dipping the triple glow of its optic in his direction in a gesture that painfully reminded him of Legion.

"Shepard... we already know that the geth, quarians, and rachni will follow you. The krogan as well I'm assuming," Victus said, glancing at his krogan counterpart's hologram.

Wrex grunted. "You're damned right."

"Which means that already the vast majority of the galaxy's military forces are on your side," the Primarch continued, unperturbed by the krogan warlord's interruption. "Like it or not, your name is burned in the minds of every race in the galaxy."

"That doesn't mean you promote me to head of state!"

"You've been the one leading the way ever since you set foot on Eden Prime, son," Anderson said, not without a hint of humor in his voice.

"This isn't what I had in mind..." he muttered.

But it was far too late. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, ideas and concepts flying rapidly through the air. The Spectre at least took solace in the fact that they had taken to the idea quickly. Now he would just have to survive the monster that he'd created.

* * *

><p>"Research units Theta and Gamma are presumed lost due to Reaper invasion," the VI intoned levelly.<p>

"And what about unit Alpha?" the Illusive Man asked.

A small map appeared with varying star systems being absorbed by a steady wall of red. The VI continued its dispassionate assessment.

"Unit Alpha is fully operational. Based on current patterns of Reaper expansion the location is outside of current invasion corridor. Estimated minimum of three weeks before first possible Reaper incursion. Maximum possible time before detection based on current patterns: seven weeks."

Cerberus' leader leaned back in his chair and reached out for the glass at his left, swirling the liquor once before taking a sip. He always enjoyed the faint burn of the alcohol down his throat. It was a reminder that he was still alive. It served the same purpose as most of his vices. They gave him a connection to the real world. It was so easy to get lost in the sea of data and abstractions that had dominated the many decades of his life.

"Calculate additional time assuming intervention of outside forces," he ordered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

The first casualties in the war against the Reapers had been nearly thirty years ago. It was a time he remembered clearly, a time when there were still people that he called friends and when the galaxy had seemed filled with limitless possibilities. Shanxi and the events that followed had taught him that the galaxy was filled with darkness. Darkness that could only be illuminated by a human race that was prepared for what they would find.

"Possibility of asari, salarian, or unaligned systems action: negligible. Possibility of Systems Alliance action: seventeen point four percent. Likelihood of success, low. Possibility of Turian Hierarchy action: sixteen point one percent. Likelihood of success, low. Average time differential, forty eight to seventy two hour increase in theoretical safe window."

The Illusive Man reached out to tap one of the screens. A day or two would likely make little difference in the grand scheme of the war, but every second counted in the race to complete his plans before the Reapers crushed the opposition that was currently slowing their advance. He sent orders to a few of the remaining operatives that he had in the various military organizations, instructing them to encourage action against Reaper forces in a few key areas that might distract the methodical machines.

Behind him he heard the hiss of the door and the faint sound of armored feet clicking against the tile floor. He didn't need to turn to know who it was, only two people had ever had the ability to enter his office unannounced and one of them had turned out to be a sore disappointment. She could have been the successor he had always wanted. Instead she had chosen Shepard.

"I take it the upgrades are complete?"

"Yes. My wounds have been healed or the organic failings replaced entirely," Kai Leng said confidently. "I can feel the difference already... the raw power is amazing. I was a fool to fear these upgrades."

Turning in his chair the Illusive Man gave his top operative a brief once over. Leng's arms were covered in exposed weaves of synthetic muscle fiber and thin lines ran beneath the skin of his neck. Beneath the skin he knew there was a new network of reinforced bone, dermal plating, and nano enhancements. The full upgrade process had undoubtedly been painful but the assassin was carrying himself without a hint of pain.

"You know what needs to be done?"

"Of course," Leng responded.

"Use stealth unless there's no other way to accomplish the mission. I want to avoid another encounter with Shepard if possible. There's too much at stake to risk complications now."

The assassin sneered.

"If he does become involved then this time I'll make sure he doesn't come back from the grave."

The Illusive Man kept his face expressionless, but his tone made his rebuke clear.

"Don't let your hatred blind you to what we're trying to accomplish. This is about humanity's place in the galaxy. Shepard helped us get part of the way there and as long as he's fighting the Reapers then he's still an asset."

"I will never understand your affection for that... traitor. If he had his way we'd be subservient to the likes of every alien race from the asari to the krogan," Leng replied. "A swift death is too good for that sort of scum."

"I might not agree with Shepard's politics, but I know an effective leader when I see one. Your understanding of my reasons has never been required. Only your success. I've invested a great deal in you Leng. Do not fail me again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Completely."

The assassin inclined his head slightly and backed away towards the door, maybe sensing his employer's unpleasant mood. No matter what he thought of his own abilities Leng wouldn't dream of challenging him except in the most superficial ways. The man was as loyal as a dog and possessed similar initiative. He was beginning to wonder if the dog was becoming rabid. Leng would obey his orders but he already knew that a confrontation between the two men was inevitable.

After the man had left and the doors closed behind him the Illusive Man reached for a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag. Leng had his hatred and xenophobia to remind him that he was alive. He blew out a ring of smoke and thought that he much preferred his vices. A single tap of a key brought up an image of Shepard's profile.

"We could have accomplished so much as allies, Shepard, if you could have seen reason. With you on our side Cerberus could have stood openly for humanity. Instead I have Leng..." he mused, addressing the image as if the wayward Spectre was actually present. "A blunt instrument made of hate and steel. I couldn't ask for a better killing machine."

The Illusive Man blew out another long trail of smoke.

"But I could ask for at least one person in this galaxy to understand the greater plan. When this is over they'll finally see why the sacrifices we've made have been necessary. It's a shame you won't be there to see it, Shepard."

* * *

><p>Shepard rubbed his brow and groped for the cup of coffee that was resting nearby as he scrolled through another page of data. Without looking he took a swig, only to grimace in distaste as the lukewarm liquid slid down his throat. The old stereotype about marines loving their coffee wasn't exactly unfounded, but most still preferred it in its proper state which was mouth-scalding hot.<p>

The clock at the upper right corner of his screen read just past three hundred hours. Looking past the holographic screen and his damaged display case he smiled at the sight of the quarian curled up on his bed. Tali had brought her knees nearly up to her chest and had seized one of his pillows in a death grip, tucked tightly just beneath her visor. She had initially insisted that she would stay up just as long as he did... but lost that particular battle within only a few hours.

It didn't bother him. In truth seeing her sleeping contentedly gave him a small sense of peace in the ever present storm that was his life. With everything that had happened in the last few days Shepard had been impressed by her endurance already. In another few hours he'd join her. And when the morning came and Tali asked when he'd finally come to bed he'd lie and say it had just been shortly after she'd fallen asleep.

He was considering making a trip down to the mess hall when his console beeped. At his request EDI limited her verbal interruptions in the cabin, instead sending the message directly to his console: a priority transmission from Admiral Hackett. The Spectre activated the link and adjusted the console volume to keep from waking Tali.

"Looks like I'm not the only one working through the mid watch," the Admiral said by way of greeting.

Shepard gave the man a tired smile in acknowledgement.

"Even before this war started it felt like there were never enough hours in the day. Now with the mess I've gotten myself into... even less. I'm beginning to wonder about the sanity of people that actually seek out this sort of position."

"I'd say welcome to command, but you've been there. I do suppose congratulations are in order... Praetor," Hackett said.

"Commander will still do just fine," he replied dryly. "When Victus came up with that I think it was an innocent suggestion, but I'm almost certain Sparatus supported it because he saw the look on my face."

A rare half smile graced Hackett's scarred face and the older man merely shrugged.

"I wouldn't put it past him. Still, the first Praetor of a new Systems Alliance... I don't know what will happen when this is all over, Shepard, but you're definitely going to make the history books."

"I'll settle for just making sure there's someone left to write the history books when this is all over," the Spectre replied. "If a true unified alliance survives this war to make things better... all the better. This temporary military rule idea should be everything I've ever asked for, but for some reason it still makes me uneasy."

He could see Hackett leaning back in his chair on the other side of the screen. What Shepard had assumed would be the start of an idea that might take precious months to realize had quickly snowballed. There had been some very heated discussion about the validity of various forms of governance, but Victus had seized on a concept that had been a part of humanity's ancient past. The fact that it bore a strong resemblance to many turian beliefs had likely gone a long way toward attracting the Primarch to the concept.

"The key part of that is the word temporary. Victus is right, it was used on ancient Earth because it was effective. In times of great crisis there isn't always time for debate. When the war is over then we can worry about how to actually create some kind of new governing council or parliament. For now by nominating you as this Praetor they're telling you that you have their support to do whatever it takes to win this war."

"I'm reminded of another old saying: absolute power corrupts absolutely," he pointed out.

"That's always the danger, Shepard," the admiral agreed. "But if anyone can walk that line... I have faith that it's you."

"I appreciate the support, sir. But something tells me you didn't call me just to offer congratulations for a position I never asked for. Is something wrong?"

Hackett shook his head and steepled his fingers.

"No, quite the opposite I think. Earlier you said that we have to stack the odds in our favor if we're going to have a chance of winning this war. I believe we may have found a way to do just that. I assume you've heard of the Leviathan of Dis?"

He leaned forward, fatigue momentarily forgotten along with his coffee.

"Rumor had it that the batarians found the corpse of some kind of massive 'living ship'... but they always denied it after the fact. Considering how quickly the batarians disappeared in the initial attack I've always assumed that the leviathan was a Reaper. That much time around even a dead Reaper would have resulted in heavy indoctrination."

"A good assumption," Hackett said. "But it's not the entire story. After Sovereign's attack at the Battle of the Citadel I created Task Force Aurora. Their job was to search for evidence of the Reapers to validate your claims. Needless to say their efforts weren't extremely successful."

The Spectre snorted but Hackett continued unperturbed.

"Trust me, I share your frustration. They found something else, though, something important. A link to the real Leviathan of Dis."

"The real leviathan?"

"Exactly. The batarians found a dead Reaper... something had to have killed it, Commander. Doctor Garret Bryson, the man in charge of Aurora, thinks he might have found what was responsible. A real leviathan: something powerful enough to kill a Reaper capital ship and escape unharmed."

"He believes that whatever destroyed that Reaper still exists?" Shepard asked.

"He does and I believe him. Bryson has evidence, good evidence. And I don't need to tell you what kind of an edge a genuine Reaper killer would provide us. We seem to be using a lot of old sayings today, here's one more: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Reapers are our enemy. Anything that can kill them? I want as a friend."

"And the doctor thinks he can locate this thing?"

Hackett nodded.

"Bryson is a genius. If he believes it's possible then I'm willing to risk it. He's currently based on the Citadel; I've sent you all of his contact information and security data via the quantum entanglement device to prevent any possibility of interception. This could be another chance for us to turn this war around, Shepard."

It was Shepard's turn to sit back in his chair as he considered the implications. In every encounter with the Reapers it had taken extraordinary means to defeat even a single one. Kalros had destroyed the one on Tuchanka and it had taken sustained bombardment to take down the Reaper broadcasting the single across Rannoch. Not to mention the significant losses suffered by the Third Fleet before Sovereign was finally destroyed. The kind of power that an entity would need to destroy a Reaper the size of Sovereign or Harbinger was staggering.

"A better question is what happens if we do find this leviathan? We're talking about some kind of ship or species that can outmatch an enemy that is capable of taking on entire fleets," he said.

"That's what we have you for, Commander. You've made peace between not one, but two sets of species that have hated each other for centuries. If anyone can make contact with this Leviathan it's you."

"Now we're hunting myths and legends. I'm just worried that even if we find Leviathan that we might find something just as dangerous as the Reapers."

"You might be right," Hackett said grimly. "But sometimes it takes a monster to fight monsters."

Shepard sighed.

"That's what I've always been afraid of."

* * *

><p><em>Sorry for the even longer than usual delay. Unfortunately life is rarely accommodating, hopefully this interlude before the final leg of Shepard's journey begins will make up for it!<em>

_Once again thanks to tankobite for his beta reading assistance. In addition my favorite (and everyone else's I hope) artist has apparently been making a few sketches over on his deviant art that look promising ;)  
><em>

_animemagix . deviantart art / Heshla-Concept-354952696_


	27. Chapter 26: Paths

Chapter 26: Paths

Bullets ricocheted off the metal crates that Garrus Vakarian was crouched behind and even more sang through the air over his head. A Kodiak shuttle swung low and opened its doors, disgorging another dozen soldiers in white and gold armor onto the landing platform. He blew out a breath that turned into a fine mist in the icy air, standing up just long enough to snap off a shot that caught a Cerberus trooper in mid jump. The turian smiled with grim satisfaction.

It said something about his life that the dull roar of combat was actually a welcome respite from his previous preoccupation with his suddenly complicated personal life. Shooting the drone-like foot soldiers of a terrorist organization was vastly easier than trying to figure out how he was supposed to feel about what had occurred aboard on the _Rayya_.

"We've got company, Boss!" he yelled.

Shepard turned his visor in Garrus's direction for a moment before turning back towards the advancing enemy, laying down a steady spray of fire. The other Spectre's dark, sharp edged armor stood out in contrast to the stark white snow that covered landscape around the base.

"I told you not to call me that anymore! You're a Spectre too!"

"Sure, but now you're a Praetor," Garrus replied, drawing out the title as much as possible. "That sounds classy. Like I should be saluting you. Constantly."

"If you start saluting me I'm going to break your damn arm."

The turian chuckled and leaned out of cover to fire off another shot. It went wide, but it had been meant to keep their enemies' heads down.

"You used to be much more cheerful in a firefight, Shepard. I think your new position is weighing on you."

"I believe that your mock-aggressive male social interactions would be better suited to a situation less likely to result in serious injury," EDI interrupted. "We are being flanked."

A burst of white hot fire streaked past him and caught one of the Cerberus troopers full in the chest. The unfortunate soldier immediately fell to his knees with a smoking hole in his chest as Tali followed up with two more shots that quickly routed their opponents' advance.

"Don't bother, EDI. They get like this sometimes," the quarian said.

The AI arched a metallic eyebrow. "Contentious?"

"Insufferable."

"Hear that? We're insufferable," Garrus said dryly. "Three more: right flank."

"Copy that, going low and fast. I'll be sure to send back that tube of dextro-chocolate that I got Shala'Raan to dig up for me before we left the Migrant Fleet. I'm sure no one would want free chocolate from such an insufferable person."

The turian almost laughed hard enough to throw off his next shot at the speed with which Tali's helmet snapped in Shepard's direction. He was a gone before the engineer could protest, however, dropping his rifle and running along the stack of metallic shipping containers that were providing their cover. Garrus sighted down his scope and picked off another soldier that left his head too exposed.

"_Bosh'tet_! We left Rannoch two days ago. He's been holding onto chocolate all this time?" Tali complained.

He shook his head with another laugh and gestured towards the gun in the quarian's hands.

"Sounds like it. Where did that thing come from anyways?

"The geth that's calling itself 'Prime-Speaker' gave it to me," she explained. "It said that Legion had sent a request for some geth weaponry to be upgraded for usage by quarians and organics... he was going to present them as a gift after we took back Rannoch."

"A shotgun that fires concentrated plasma? That's what I call a considerate gift," Garrus said.

"I wish I could have thanked him for it."

The turian grimaced and nodded before peering through the scope of his rifle once more. After the celebration that briefly overtook the quarian flotilla a small ceremony had taken place on the cliff overlooking the defeated Reaper. Legion's mobile platform had been removed by the geth making a traditional 'organic' burial was impossible. They had instead constructed a small cairn and placed the synthetic's rifle atop the stone mound. The weapon had been coated with a thin layer of clear polymer to protect it from the elements. When it was over Shepard had added a name to the wall on the crew deck just below Thane's.

Just a few short hours later they were on their way back to the Citadel. By now they should have been back aboard the massive space station, but Traynor had picked up an odd distress signal from what should have been an uninhabited area of space. The signal had Alliance special operations codes, old ones, but accurate according to their database. That distress call had then led them to their current situation. A gunfight on the nearly frozen landing pad of an unmarked facility.

A yell of surprise went up from the formerly stoic Cerberus troops as a blast of biotic energy erupted behind their position. One unfortunate member of the enemy squad was literally sent flying over the cover he'd been using by the shockwave. Two more were quickly cut down by when they emerged from cover in an attempt to face the sudden danger in their midst, one falling to a well placed sniper round while EDI had finished the second with a long, frightfully accurate burst from her submachine gun.

"The Commander has become much more adept with his biotic abilities since their initial manifestation," EDI noted as another soldier was hurled into a stack of crates.

"He had six months to practice control while the Alliance wasted time keeping him locked up," Tali said. "I wish he wouldn't insist on charging off alone, though..."

Garrus had the last Cerberus soldier in his sights but didn't bother to fire. He saw Shepard appear next to the trooper in a blur of motion. Garrus had to give the enemy soldier credit for trying when he raised his rifle in an attempt to strike his opponent, but it did the man little good. The black-armored Spectre surged forward and drove the crackling blade that emerged from his fist beneath the trooper's armpit in a single brutal motion.

"Normally I'd agree with you Tali, but I think in this case he's doing fine," Garrus said. "Let's go find out who Cerberus was so interested in killing before we got here."

They did a quick final sweep to confirm that all of their targets were down before jogging towards the entrance of facility, Shepard rejoining them halfway across the tarmac. The non-descript building was set into the mountain and completely without identifying markers. A sound of metal scraping against the concrete caught his attention and that of the rest of the team.

Weapons came up and Shepard motioned for Garrus to flank the left side of the crates near the entrance, the only cover available between them and the entrance to the base. The turian drew his pistol and approached while Tali and EDI provided cover from a few meters away. He spared a glance towards the other Spectre long enough to get the slight nod to advance, stepping around the stack of crates with his weapon raised...

Only to find himself staring down the barrel of an M-8 Avenger assault rifle. He followed the line of the weapon down to an armored fist, to a soldier that was sitting with his back braced against a large crate. One hand was pressed against his stomach and Garrus could see blood seeping between his fingers, but the weapon that was pointed at the turian didn't waver until a spark of recognition flashed through the soldier's eyes at the sound of Shepard's voice.

"I'll be damned," Shepard muttered and immediately holstered his pistol.

Jacob Taylor coughed wetly, his breath fogging in the cool air as he lowered weapon with a pained smirk.

"So... you guys come here often?"

* * *

><p>"Your life is a statistically improbable series of coincidences, Shepard," EDI commented during a pause in Jacob's explanation of his current situation. "The chances of picking up a distress signal before re-entering FTL are less than point zero four percent. That distress signal coming from a close acquaintance is not even statistically viable."<p>

"Let's not jinx it. If you guys hadn't shown up when you did things would have gotten bad," the former Cerberus agent said.

Jacob was currently propped up on a medical bed with his shirt off and a bandage around his torso. Thankfully his armor had drained the round of most of its remaining velocity after it had penetrated his barriers, but the biotic was going to be sore for a few days even with the miracle that was medi-gel.

"I don't understand why the Illusive Man is so determined to kill you," Tali added. "No offense, Jacob, but I didn't think you were important enough to warrant a cruiser and death squads."

"I doubt it's me he's after. It has to be one of the eggheads or the data that we took when we bolted."

"As one of the 'eggheads,' I'm not sure if I should be honored that we hurt Cerberus enough to be worth killing or just plain afraid."

Tali looked over her shoulder to see a human woman standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. Her words sounded irritated but there was a smile on her face that told the quarian that Jacob's nickname for the scientists hadn't offended her. She had dusky skin and intelligent eyes. Tali would have pegged her as a scientist or academic even without the obvious context of their conversation. A far cry from her early days on Pilgrimage when she could barely tell one human face from another.

"Ah... this is Brynn, Dr. Brynn Cole," Jacob said.

"The Normandy is engaging the Cerberus cruiser. Once they return we'll get you and your people out of here," Shepard promised.

The woman crossed the room slowly, reaching out to squeeze Jacob's hand and causing Garrus to arch a brow at the pair. Dr. Cole inclined her head at the assembled group.

"Thank you all, both on behalf of all of the people here and myself. I thought I'd never see Jacob again after those doors closed."

"He's survived worse," Garrus said drolly.

"She's heard the stories. At least now she can see that I wasn't making it all up since you're all here in the flesh," Jacob laughed. "Well, and in the... metal? I'm still adjusting to the idea of EDI walking around."

"My core programming still resides within the Normandy. This platform merely allows me to explore a new method of interaction with the crew as well as participate in ground missions," the AI pointed out.

Dr. Cole shook her head in clear amazement. "I always took Jacob's stories with a grain of salt. Soldiers always make every battle sound like an epic... but this is actually more than I was expecting."

Tali couldn't help but chuckle at that statement. That response could sum up a great deal of their careers together up until this point. The Council had never expected them to find proof of Saren's corruption. Saren had never expected a human like Shepard to best him. The Reapers certainly hadn't expected a single human and his mismatched crew to stand in the way of their cycle of annihilation.

"It's kind of our specialty," Garrus agreed, unknowingly mirroring her thoughts.

"How did you end up trying to hold off a Cerberus hit squad alone?" Shepard asked.

The former Alliance soldier shrugged. "When Brynn asked me to provide security for her and the other scientists we were worried about pirates or the thugs on Omega when we stopped for supplies. There are two other Cerberus defectors with military training, but I ordered them to stay with the scientists."

"I should never have agreed-" Brynn began.

"Commander, we have a problem," EDI said suddenly. "My sensors aboard the Normandy have detected that the cruiser launched three shuttles during our pursuit. The enemy warship has been disabled but even at maximum speed it will take the Normandy sixty eight minutes to return. The shuttles will enter the atmosphere in fifty minutes."

The Spectre shook his head.

"They're persistent, I'll give them that. Doctor, let's go see to the rest of your people. We're going to need to set up a defensive perimeter to hold out until the Normandy arrives. EDI, you're with me. I want you to see what you can do with the base systems. Maybe we can make this place a harder nut to crack."

Without further discussion Shepard left the room while Dr. Brynn cast only a momentary glance back at Jacob before following.

"Sounds like I just got demoted from head of security," Jacob said wryly.

"Shepard does like to take charge," Tali murmured absentmindedly and then immediately went silent at the odd look that Garrus gave her.

Thankfully he didn't make one of his usual smart-ass comments and instead turned his attention back to Jacob, giving the former Cerberus operative an apologetic shrug.

"He does get a little more bossy every day I think. If you want a little revenge just call him 'Praetor' when he comes back."

"Praetor?"

"Long story, but trust me the look on his face will be worth it."

"Why do I get the feeling you're trying to get me into even more trouble, Vakarian?" Jacob asked.

"He's good at that, it's better to just ignore him. Besides, I'm more interested in Doctor Cooole," Tali said, drawing out the woman's name teasingly.

"I... ah..."

The quarian crossed her arms and tapped one foot.

"She did seem very concerned about your well being."

"Okay, so we've been together for about six months now," Jacob finally admitted, holding up his hands in defeat. "After she asked me to help her and the others escape from Cerberus... well, all that time on the run and you get close, rely on one another. She's smart, funny... and she makes me feel like I'm fighting for something more than a paycheck or an ideal."

Tali smiled at the earnestness in the man's tone, wondering if that was how she sounded when someone asked her about Shepard. In her head she suspected she sounded far worse. At least she had finally managed to get her rambling under control. Mostly.

"I guess that date with the ship's thief didn't turn out the way she planned?" she asked.

The quarian made sure that she didn't sound bitter or accusatory. Her friend's minor obsession with the extremely fit Cerberus soldier had always been a source of amusement to Tali. In truth it had never seemed to be more than a very physical appreciation and she had known that Kasumi had agreed to a date with Jacob not long after the mission against the Shadowbroker, but Tali had never had a chance to ask what had occurred. A short week later the incident on Bahak occurred and her world had been thrown askew.

"You had a date with Kasumi?" Garrus interrupted before the other man could reply.

"Hm? Oh yea, right after we got back from dealing with that mess with the Shadow Broker and the team he sent after Orianna. We almost got killed together so I figured why not when she finally said something about getting some ramen."

The biotic shifted on the medical bed, pushing himself further upright and showing off some of the toned musculature that had first attracted Kasumi's attention in the first place. During their many conversations the thief had often brought up the aesthetic appeal of various crew members with Jacob generally being near the top and, of course, numerous attempts to mine Tali for more... detailed information about Shepard's own physique.

Settled into his new position Jacob continued.

"We hit up a ramen joint on the Citadel. It was a fun evening but I knew it wasn't going to go anywhere. Kasumi is cute and a little sake goes a long way but... I mean, really? She's a professional art thief."

A very strange sound, something between a chirp and a growl, came from Garrus and she saw the turian's stance shift subtly as he spoke. He seemed to be leaning forward and Tali could swear that the crest of horns that she always thought of as his 'hair' was flexing slowly.

"That 'art thief' saved both our lives more than once. I'd have expected a little less condescending from an ex-terrorist."

Jacob raised his hands in a placating gesture for the second time in as many minutes, but this time the move was far less of a joke.

"Whoa! Didn't mean it that way, big guy. I just don't know a Picasso from a potato is all! We chatted but the only thing we really had to talk about was the mission. The kind of life she leads... it's not for me."

"I..." Garrus hesitated, his mandibles flaring briefly before drawing tight against his face. "Sorry. I should go."

Two pairs of eyes, one human, one quarian, watched as he spun on his heels and marched out of the room. Seconds ticked by in silence before Jacob cleared his throat and looked in her direction.

"So..."

"That was... odd. I'm going to follow him. You'll be fine, right?" she asked.

"I just got shot. I'm not going anywhere. Plus if pissed off Garrus is out there I think I'm safer in here."

"That's the truth," Tali muttered and went after her infuriating turian friend.

* * *

><p>Garrus's forehead rested against the cool glass as he mentally kicked himself. He let himself get distracted in his own problems and had promptly made an ass of himself by overreacting. For the first time he actually regretted his incessant teasing of Shepard back when he and Tali were still dancing around each other like wary varren.<p>

"I know Jacob isn't the smoothest talker in the world but don't you think that was overkill?"

He sighed again and pushed away from the window. Of course Tali couldn't leave well enough alone. There were certainly days when he wouldn't have minded the timid, quiet Tali that Shepard had to coax out of her shell aboard the SR-1.

"Sorry, guess something got crossed there. Humans with those single toned voices... throw me off sometimes."

"Bullshit."

"I see you're picking up Shepard's colorful expressions," he said, turning towards the quarian and crossing his arms. "Do you even know what a bull is?"

Tali seemed nonplussed, stopping with one hand raised as if she was about to say something.

"No. Do you?"

"Not a clue. The most research I've done into Earth animals was the whole unicorn thing back when we were hunting Saren. You wanted to see one so bad."

"Shut up, _bosh'tet_, I figured it out eventually. And you are changing the subject," the engineer accused. "I'm not a girl on her Pilgrimage anymore. I've learned your tricks."

"It's nothing."

His response didn't seem to deter her, however, even as he tried to stare her down. With his arms crossed over his chest and standing at his full height Garrus should have been an intimidating sight. Unfortunately there were a few people in the galaxy that were either too stupid to back down, and thus ended up dead, and a few that knew him too damn well for his own good. Tali placed a hand on her hip and tapped her foot.

"Tell me."

The turian grimaced. "What part of 'It's nothing' wasn't clear?"

"All of it. Now are you going to tell me or not?"

"No."

Tali's omni-tool flared to life.

"Fine. Elcor porn and krogan opera it is."

"That's... kind of extreme isn't it?" he stammered immediately.

She didn't reply, merely looking up with silvery eyes flashing behind her visor and continuing to tap away at her omni-tool without breaking eye contact. The turian cursed mentally. The voiceless stare was a technique he'd mentioned using during his time at C-Sec. It was not one that he ever to have expected to have used on him, much less by Tali. Especially not by Tali. His visor began to spin warnings across his display of security breaches.

"Fine! I give up!"

The omni-tool winked out of existence and his tormentor made a small sound of satisfaction.

"Good. I didn't want to have 'elcor porn' showing up in my extranet history anyway. Now as Kelly liked to say... spill it?"

"Too much time around humans," Garrus muttered and leaned against his back against the glass, glancing from side to side to make sure they were alone.

"I'm going to ignore that and instead repeat my original question of 'why did you sound like you wanted to kill Jacob'?"

He sighed and closed his eyes, already regretting his cowardice in the face of elcor depravity and krogan musical tradition. At this point the turian knew he was trapped, though, as Tali would hound him mercilessly.

"Because Kasumi kissed me," he said finally.

"She... what?"

Garrus waved a hand and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "I know I'm not much to look at but it happened. After the celebration on the Flotilla... I found her on the observation deck. She did it and then just disappeared."

When he didn't get an immediate response the turian looked up to see Tali staring at him again with her head cocked to the side. He had gotten better at reading the engineer's body language during their time aboard the Normandy but he had never mastered Shepard's knack for knowing the meaning of each shift, sigh, and look. Shepard had been paying closer attention, of course, so it was to be expected. Garrus just wished he knew if the feisty quarian was going to laugh at him or try to kill him.

"Keelah, I don't know which of you is the bigger idiot."

"Look, I didn't... wait, what?"

"Id-ee-ot."

The quarian approached and jabbed his chest with one finger, punctuating the drawn out word.

"Why am I an idiot?"

"Did you go after her?" Tali demanded.

"Not being found is her profession. It would have been pointless."

"It's been two days, Garrus. Two days. On a frigate. Even Kasumi can't hide that well."

He looked away, rubbing at his fringe sheepishly.

"Right, but what was I supposed to do if I found her?"

"My first thought would be to try kissing her back," the quarian suggested.

"I... but... I wouldn't even..." Garrus sputtered, finally clenching his fists and finding his voice. "Dammit, who are you to be giving me advice?"

"I'm the stupid girl who wasted too much time being afraid or angry and almost lost everything. Twice."

The sudden edge to the quarian's voice was like a slap and forced his attention back to her.

"So instead of arguing with me. You're going to listen and answer. We're going to play a little game Kelly taught me during the Collector mission. I'm going to say a name and you're going to say the first word that comes to mind."

"I-" he began, but immediately went silent and nodded when the silver eyes behind her visor narrowed to slits. He didn't need to be Shepard to interpret that look.

"Much better. Let's start: Omega?"

He grimaced but did his best to play along, letting the first word slip grudgingly past his lip plates.

"Shame."

"Reapers?"

"War."

"Joker?"

"Jackass."

Tali's chuckle was poorly concealed but she continued.

"Normandy?"

"Home."

"Shepard."

"Brother."

"Wrex?"

"Stubborn."

"Kasumi?"

"Peace."

The rapid fire stream of words stopped and Garrus blinked. Despite his expecting the question all along Tali had done a good job of getting him on a roll so that the answer had simply come naturally. Ever since the war had begun Garrus had felt the strain of the mission bearing down on him: watching Shepard's deterioration, Tali's emotional conflict after rejoining the crew, constantly scanning the casualty and refugee reports for the names of his family. The few moments of normalcy that he'd enjoyed had been when he was verbally sparring with the energetic thief that was always so keen to keep him on his toes.

"Not exactly what I was expecting but it works," Tali said. "Now you just have to figure out what to do about it."

Without further comment the quarian simply walked away, leaving him with more questions than when he'd started.

* * *

><p>"Thanks for the ride, Shepard. We owe you one," Jacob said as they shook hands at the airlock.<p>

"Anytime, Taylor. And congratulations again. Please try to talk her out of the whole 'Shepard' thing would you?"

The dark-skinned man flashed a smile.

"Don't worry about it. Brynn is pretty stubborn but I'm not going to let her name our kid 'Shepard'... no offense but it's a little much. Especially if it's a girl."

"Trust me, none taken. I'm still worried about going back to Tuchanka and finding a bunch of little krogan named after me," Shepard replied.

"Very awkward," Jacob agreed. "I'm going to report to C-Sec, see if we can get some secure quarters for everyone. Brynn said she's already let EDI scan all the files that they were able to make it out with. I hope something there is helpful."

He nodded.

"I'm sure it will be. You just take care of yourself. You're going to be a family man now."

"It's hard to forget. Good luck, Shepard."

The former operative snapped a crisp salute that Shepard returned. Moments later he was gone, stepping out of the airlock and into the crowds that occupied the docking area. Most of his team was already spread across the Citadel on various errands. He had sent Garrus to update the Council by claiming that if the turian was going to get so much amusement out of Shepard's new title then he was going to suffer for it. Tali was supervising maintenance to the Normandy, Liara was meeting with some of her few remaining contacts from her time as the Shadow Broker.

"I am ready to accompany you, Shepard," EDI intoned.

He turned to see the AI's silvery body standing behind him with her arms behind her back.

"Just in time, then. I'm supposed to be meeting with Dr. Bryson in half an hour. I thought you might be the best candidate to help analyze any data he has on this 'Leviathan'."

"A correct assumption. Even though a large amount of my processes are occupied in assisting Tali'Zorah with maintenance procedures I will be much more capable than any VI."

"Good to see you're making such good use of those modesty subroutines," Shepard quipped as they exited the airlock.

"The Illusive Man did not see a purpose in any such algorithms."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me... but I wasn't actually being serious, EDI."

The AI looked at him and nodded. "I see. You were attempting humor. Jeff has continued to try and 'develop' my sense of humor but unfortunately progress has been... lacking. I do not understand the organic fascination with personal injury or mental trauma as a form of entertainment."

"It's more than that. Humans laugh at things that should be horrifying, both because when we're watching or listening some part of us knows that it's not serious, that the consequences that should happen won't... and because it's how we deal with the world we live in," he explained. "If we couldn't laugh at some of the things that happen in our lives we'd have gone insane long ago."

The pair made their way to customs without incident beyond a few stares. While Shepard certainly didn't crave fame he had to admit that it occasionally had its benefits. There were no questions about his 'synthetic assistant' or anything beyond a cursory scan when they moved through customs. Under the circumstances he had decided to wear his armor as well, adding another layer to the buffer zone that surrounded them both.

He wasn't, however, expecting the shriek that came from behind him. His pistol was in hand instantly as he spun and took a knee, weapon raised. EDI had her weapon in hand as well, but both barrels dropped as quickly as they'd been raised. Shepard began to chuckle.

An extremely nonplussed turian C-Sec officer had a human woman attempting to climb him like a very stoic tree while at least one volus had fallen over backwards and was now rolling back and forth in an attempt to right himself. Two more C-Sec officers had emerged from the customs kiosk with hands on the sidearms at their hips.

_We have erred, Sings-of-Endings?_

The bulky rachni shuffled back and forth in the middle of the docking area, his pedipalps waving overhead while shimmering blue eyes examined those around him. Shepard could see at least two of the smaller workers hiding beneath their much larger brethren.

"Stand down," he ordered the C-Sec agents firmly. "Or did you already forget a few thousand of his friends helped clear Cerberus off your station?"

"Uh... no sir, sorry. Just... a little surprised is all," the human officer said.

_The workers panic. We did not wish to cause distress!_

"Don't worry, Fury. Rachni are just a little out of the ordinary even for the Citadel. Last time most the population was hiding in their homes. Where is Twilight?"

_Sings-Twilight-Among-Broken-Stars is assisting Devotion-Singer with the repairs to the hive vessel. He did not believe our memory-songs would be productive to this task._

Shepard smirked. "In other words he thought you'd get in the way so he sent you to do something else. I wouldn't recommend wandering around the Citadel alone right now. People are still on edge and it's going to take time for them to get used to the idea of rachni."

_We wish to accompany you to the place of the one who sings knowledge-songs._

"I don't see a problem with that. Did you have to bring the little guys, though? I think they freak people out more than you do," he asked, continuing with a mutter. "Or they do Tali at least. It took a damn hour to convince her there weren't any in the cabin."

_Workers always accompany brood-warriors. We protect them and they assist us. If there were no workers... we would be alone._

The rachni's mental voice seemed to voice trepidation at the very concept of solitude.

"Okay, I'm not telling you to send them back. Come on."

Together the three of them certainly made quite the sight when they made their way to the elevator. Technically EDI's existence was still illegal within Council space and the rachni had been nothing but memory just a few short weeks ago. He looked down at the rachni as they crowded into the elevator.

"Didn't we make you a communications device? EDI can't hear your songs if you don't use it."

The rachni's pedipalps drooped and from the flash of colors in his mind Shepard found himself wondering if it was possible for the insect-like alien to flush in embarrassment.

_It was forgotten aboard the ship in our haste to follow. Whisper-Singer will be displeased. _

"The brood-warrior appears distressed," EDI commented.

"He forgot his communicator on the ship which means you can't hear him. Kasumi has apparently chastised him for this previously."

"I find it odd that a member of a hivemind, non-bipedal species is subject to standard cultural norms of politeness and communication."

He looked down at the rachni and rubbed his chin.

"I guess... the way that the rachni hear everyone's 'song' as they call it makes them more sensitive. I'd like to think that if humans could feel the emotions of others we'd be more concerned about being nice."

EDI seemed to be processing his theory while keying in their destination on the elevator. For his part Sings-Fury didn't offer any particular indication in either direction. It was possible that such matters simply didn't concern him. Brood warriors were bred with a singular purpose: to defend the hive and engage potential threats. More than once Shepard had found himself wondering if he had always been meant to become a soldier, but for the likes of Fury and Twilight it had never been a question. They were truly born to it.

"Shepard, I have an additional inquiry not related to rachni socio-political norms."

"Okay?" he prompted, casting a sidelong glance at the synthetic.

"I have been running numerous scenarios in my head attempting to analyze Jeff's behaviour over the past few months. I believe that he has formed an affectionate attachment to me but has not expressed this to any of the crew," the AI explained matter of factly. "You have verifiable firsthand sexual experience with both Liara T'Soni and Tali'Zorah. How does one know if someone is romantically invested?"

The bare gray metal of the lift's doors suddenly became fascinating as he stared straight ahead, mouth working soundlessly for a moment as his brain desperately attempted to catch up to the abrupt turn in the conversation.

"I... wait; what do you mean 'verifiable'?"

"Cerberus data would suggest previous sexual partners but only Tali'Zorah and Liara T'soni can be independently verified by observation, or in the case of Liara by reports from the original Normandy that Navigator Pressly filed. Also, you are avoiding the question."

"I'm not a great person to be asking for love advice, EDI," Shepard protested, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The concept of romance and sexuality is mostly restricted to organics. There are only two sapient organics in this elevator."

The rachni next to him shifted and seemed to be doing its best to look innocent. As innocent as a massive bug-like alien could.

_We do not think it wise to offer mating advice to the cold-singer._

"Thanks, buddy," Shepard said dryly, trying to think of an appropriate response. "Look, EDI... with most species they just want to be around you. They spend time with you... with humans its traditional to ask people out on dates, give gifts..."

"I do not have a need for physical items beyond physical maintenance to the Normandy and this mobile platform. Would it be possible to engineer a scenario in which to trigger an emotional commitment from Jeff?"

EDI's comment was delivered in the same level and inquisitive tone as ever, causing the Spectre to quickly shake his head.

"Whoa, let's not go that far. You can't trick someone into loving you. It needs to happen naturally. Try visiting some place you might both enjoy while we're on the Citadel. Don't talk about work just... relax. And see what happens."

"You suggest a course of action with no predictable outcome?" the AI asked.

"If there is one thing I can tell you about love it's that no one ever found it by playing it safe. Play it safe for too long and you risk losing the chance of ever finding it."

"I see. A final question, then?"

"I don't think you can top the last one, EDI, but go ahead," he said with a faint chuckle.

"You do not show signs of any concern with a relationship between a synthetic intelligence and an organic such as Jeff. If my attempt at interaction were successful you would find such an outcome acceptable?"

Shepard gave an abrupt laugh and shook his head.

"My best friend has mandibles and talons, the woman I love doesn't even share the same kind of amino acids I do... and I'm currently riding an elevator peacefully with an unshackled AI and a quarter ton biotic, psychic insect. So yes, I would find it acceptable as long as it made you and Joker happy."

"Thank you, Shepard."

_Sings-of-Endings?_

"Hm?"

_We have searched the memory-song of the queens._

"Did you find something relevant to this conversation?" he asked in surprise.

_Yes. We have determined that we are not insects._

"I was making a generalization, Fury. I'm pretty sure most the species in the galaxy don't really fit into humanity's original classification of biological life."

_This is true. We wished to clarify as we understand that insects are undesirable creatures. They are singers of 'pest songs'__. We are not pests._

"Don't worry. No one is going to mistake you for a pest."

The elevator hummed along for the remainder of the ride in silence. It gave him time to think about just how bizarre his life had become when beyond the initial surprise the idea of an AI trying to start a relationship with a human was par for the course. And he wouldn't have had it unfold any other way.

* * *

><p>"This is the thanks I get for sneaking you food?"<p>

Kasumi slowly backed out of the storage room that she'd been lurking in as a dozen small rachni workers ran about the place. For the past few hours the workers had seemed to appear in whatever part of the ship she was hiding out in and immediately decided that location was the newest location in need of maintenance. Lights were disabled, environmental controls changed, and despite it all EDI never reported any issues when the thief inquired. One of the swarm paused and reared up on its hind legs, waving its feelers as if in response to her question.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?" she demanded from her position in the hall.

The rachni's feelers twitched once more in her direction. And then the door closed in her face. Kasumi was getting the feeling that she was being herded by a pack of small creatures that were supposedly not even supposed to be above animal intelligence. She sighed and shook her head.

"Fine, you win."

It seemed her plan of hiding in an unused corner of the ship until everyone, or at least Garrus, forgot she existed wasn't going to work. She had spent the last few days skillfully avoiding being on the same deck as the turian and doing her best to avoid thinking about her impulsive actions aboard the _Rayya_. The former had been rather successful. The latter less so.

She knew that Garrus was presently performing maintenance on the Normandy's main guns which meant going up wasn't an option. Instead she ventured down, entering main engineering and tip toeing down the steps to the maintenance tunnels beneath the deck where she suspected Tali was working. She heard the engineer before she saw her.

"No no, you little _bosh'tets_! The coil spanner not the flux coupler!"

A loud chittering echoed in the confined space and Kasumi could swear she felt a wave of exasperation roll across the room.

"Do not back talk me! There, yes, that one... bring it over here."

Kasumi failed to suppress a giggle at the sight that greeted her when she rounded the corner. A pair of rachni workers were dragging a tool across the floor with surprising efficiency towards an outstretched quarian hand. Tali was on her back half buried in an access panel. The engineer jerked in surprise at the sound of her giggle and uttered another untranslatable curse when her helmet thumped against the top of the conduit.

"I thought you didn't like them?" the thief asked mischievously as Tali extracted herself from the panel.

"Shepard forced me to pay attention to them and after a little while I realized they really don't look that much like spiders. And they kept bringing me things... it's like they wanted me to like them. I started to feel bad," she explained with a shrug.

"And because you felt bad you berate them while they try to help you make repairs?"

"No, I berated them because they brought me the wrong tool," Tali corrected, lifting up the item that the rachni had brought and then grabbing another nearby before waving them in the direction of the two workers. "This is a coil spanner. This is a flux coupler. Got it?"

Kasumi watched in bemusement as the pair of small creature adopted a pose much like the one that had kicked her out of her hiding space. After a moment of twitching feelers and faint chittering they quieted and Kasumi simply felt... understanding radiating from them.

"Okay, that is really weird. How do they understand any of that? Aren't they supposed to be like... the rachni equivalent of dogs?"

Tali shrugged.

"I don't think they're dumb, just... simple. They only seem to care about whatever task they're working on at the time."

The engineer had shifted so that she was sitting with her back against the bulkhead while Kasumi took up a perch on the workbench nearby. Without further guidance the rachni workers had ceased moving tools and had apparently defaulted to clean up, collecting small pieces of insulation and other detritus into a neat pile. The two women watched in silence for a few minutes before Tali finally spoke.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up again. I was starting to think that you'd been left behind on that ice planet."

"Nope, not left behind. I don't much like the cold," she said. "I just... had some things to think about."

Tali cocked her head.

"What sort of things?"

The tone of the quarian's voice was entirely too innocent and Kasumi was immediately suspicious as to the extent of Tali's knowledge of what occurred on the _Rayya_. It wasn't as if she could extract that information without giving away more than she wanted, though, so she quickly pushed it aside for another question that had been bothering her.

"What do you think you'll do after this is all over?"

"Assuming we win?" Tali asked dourly.

"Of course."

"I... guess I haven't really thought about it. All I wanted to be as a child was the chief engineer of a starship. That one came true at least. Why?"

Kasumi sighed.

"Because I don't know either. After being on the Normandy I don't know if I can go back to being just a thief. Don't get me wrong, I love the thrill of it but... how do I go back to stealing art for rich people after fighting a war? That's assuming there's even going to be art to steal and rich people to sell it to..."

"Does it really matter? I just want this war to be over," the quarian replied with a shrug. "I'm tired of always being scared."

"Scared? You're Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. I bet they're making action figures of you on the Flotilla as we speak," Kasumi teased gently.

"Keelah... I hope not. That would be a terrible waste of resources."

"Maybe not. People need heroes. Even quarians."

Silence fell as the engineer contemplated her words. The pair of workers had completed their tidying up and were already moving onto the next task, disappearing into the bowels of the ship to answer some call only they could hear.

"What about thieves?"

She gave Tali a puzzled look.

"What about them?"

"You said people need heroes. What kind of person does a thief call a hero?"

Kasumi let her feet dangle for a moment as she thought.

"Well, there is one guy. A turian named Rolan... he's everything that the holovids want a thief and a conman to be. Charming, intelligent, mysterious. The things he does should never work but somehow they do, and to top it all off he doesn't seem to care about the money. He actually spent two years impersonating the CEO of Delumcore Systems... and didn't take a single credit. In fact he made them more profitable than ever and quadrupled their charitable contributions."

"He sounds impressive," Tali agreed.

"A real smooth talker, completely unflappable. I'd say he was too good to be true if I hadn't actually met him once. He got the drop on me when I was lifting an Asari burial urn from an exhibit on the Citadel," she admitted. "He could have killed me or alerted C-Sec. I would have never made it out. But he didn't. We spent twenty minutes talking about asari sculpture and art then he grabbed another piece that he said belonged to a family on Ilium... and I never saw him again."

The quarian made a contemplative humming sound and sat back against the bulkhead, watching her through half-lidded silvery eyes. Kasumi crossed her arms and stared back defiantly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't 'nothing' me, Fishbowl. I know that smug look."

"You can't even see my face, how can you know any 'look' I have?"

She gestured towards her face.

"They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Now what are you thinking?"

"Fine. I was just thinking it sounds like you know what you want to do. You want to be like this Rolan person. Putting some people in their place and helping other people," Tali said at last.

"Maybe I've just gotten used to the idea of always having other people around. I don't want to lose that."

Tali shook her head.

"If Shepard has taught me anything it's that nothing is really lost until you give up fighting for it. Sometimes it's just harder than others."

The thief didn't have a response. She just sat on the workbench and enjoyed the moment of relative peace with a friend. Maybe Kasumi still didn't know what to do with her life... but she at least knew that there was something there that had more value than a trinket or painting. And worth any effort to keep.

* * *

><p>"I need security down here now!" Shepard roared into his comms.<p>

Fire raked across the console he was using for cover, sending a shower of sparks cascading off his helmet. He was glad that he'd decided to wear his armor. Some might accuse him of paranoia but as the old saying went: it wasn't paranoia if they really were out to get you. The Spectre stood from behind his cover and snapped off two shots that took one of their assailants in the chest. No telltale flash of failing barriers and the following spray of arterial blood told him that his opponents were armed well, but completely without armor.

"EDI, status!"

"C-Sec first responders are four minutes away. I have contacted the Normandy. Garrus has stated that he will be here in three minutes."

"Too long. We need to breach that room now."

"With only sidearms and no knowledge of the enemy force composition we are at a tactical disadvantage," the AI cautioned.

Shepard concentrated and he felt power crackle along his arm a split second before the azure blade sheathed his fist in azure energy.

"They might have bigger guns, but we've got armor and surprise. They weren't expecting resistance judging from the way they didn't secure their exit point. Fury, are you ready?"

_We are ready!_ the rachni assured him, its song awash in fiery red and orange.

"Then let's move. EDI, covering fire!"

The synthetic rose from her own cover and laid down a steady stream of automatic fire from her submachine gun, shattering windows and clipping one of their assailants in the shoulder. As soon as their enemies' attention shifted towards this new threat both Spectre and brood warrior burst from cover. Shepard's bound was fueled by biotic energy as much as his own muscles and cybernetics while the rachni moved with frightening speed on his four clawed feet.

Shepard threw himself through the opening left by the now shattered window, tucking into the fall and rolling to his feet on the other side. A pair of shots dropped the nearest enemy, a human man in civilian clothing holding an Avenger assault rifle. Three men on the other side of the doorway turned to line up their rifles in his direction but found their shot blocked when Sings-Fury's bulky form appeared in the way.

Assault rifles roared to life, followed by screams as the rounds impacted futily against the powerful biotic barrier the rachni had wrapped himself in. The pedipalps that Shepard thought of as Fury's 'hands' lashed out and revealed themselves to be the brutally effective weapons they were, driving claws straight through the nearest man's midsection. Another was sent hurtling into the wall by a biotic shove while the third lasted only a few seconds longer.

Rounds slammed into his own kinetic barriers, a few slipping through to bite into his armor. He spun on his heel and emptied the remainder of his magazine into the most exposed of the men while running straight for the overturned medical bed that the last was using for cover. The Spectre's HUD flashed with warnings as two more rounds embedded themselves in the armor along his ribs.

He vaulted the cover and drove his knee into the man's face with a sickening crack. His opponent was made of harder stuff than expected, however, and tried to bring the rifle to bear once more even as blood ran down his chin from a shatter nose. Shepard slapped the weapon aside with one hand and drove forward with the other, the biotic blade sinking to the knuckles in the man's chest.

The rifle fell to the ground, clattering loudly in the sudden silence. He turned back, finding EDI covering the doorway that led to Bryson's main lab and Sings-Fury right behind her. After taking up position at the door they breached the room on a quick three count, scanning for any other enemies.

"No hostiles detected," EDI said after a few seconds.

_We sense no songs of red and black_ Fury agreed. _There is a song close, it is cold and fading. Its melody will be lost soon._

Advancing into the next room they found a man slumped in a large chair behind a desk, one hand clutched against his chest. Dark blood stained his clothes and the floor beneath. He was middle-aged and wearing the standard uniform of an Alliance researcher. Nearby another, younger man was laying on his back staring lifelessly at the ceiling in a large pool of blood. He'd been shot at least a dozen times.

The room itself was a mess. It looked as if the men outside had simply opened fire on the room as a whole. Computer terminals were sparking and ruined; the walls were pockmarked with bullet holes. A pistol lay on the floor a few feet away from the corpse of the younger researcher.

"Doctor Bryson?" Shepard asked, kneeling next to the man in the chair and activating his comm. "C-Sec, I need a trauma team to my location! I have multiple casualties, gunshot wounds."

"Y-yes..." he gasped weakly.

"I'm Commander Shepard. Help is on the way. You've got to hold on."

The older man shook his head.

"My... daughter. Have to-"

He coughed, blood running down his lips as he tried to speak.

"We'll find her soon, Doctor. Just stay still."

Shepard moved to support him but the dying man reached up with surprising strength to grip the neck of his armor. Another wet cough wracked Bryson's body.

"No! Have... have to..." Bryson stammered, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Have to tell her..."

Bryson's eyelids fluttered and Shepard could feel the shudder that ran through the older man's body. The Spectre had seen enough men die to know that any promises of help were likely empty ones. It was a feat of will that he was even conscious.

"Tell her what, Doctor?"

He expected words of regret or love. A final goodbye to be relayed to next of kin. It was a burden he had carried before and delivered as promised, both for soldiers under his command and others who had only had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Doctor Bryson's last words were not words of comfort. His grip on Shepard's armor was fierce and his eyes wide.

"The darkness must not be breached!"

* * *

><p><em>Well, I'm still here! I can't promise the hastiest updates unfortunately. Sometimes life sucks. But I'm certainly not done, so thanks for everyone's patience.<em>

_In the realm of good news one of my readers, Nitewind, has apparently created a TV Tropes page for the Razor's Edge series! Thanks Nitewind. You can find the link here: tvtropes DOT org SLASH pmwiki SLASH pmwiki DOT php SLASH FanFic SLASH RazorsEdge (wow that is an annoying way to write a URL. I'll put the link on my profile so you all can use the internet like normal people). _

_For everyone that's been asking, yes, all of the DLCs will be touched on to varying degrees. Some only very lightly, others will see heavier use. But will any of them match up exactly to the game canon? No.  
><em>

_Thanks as always for reading and reviewing!_


	28. Chapter 27: History

Chapter 27: History

Garrus stood in the middle of the ruined lab surveying the damage with a practiced eye.

"This is one hell of a mess."

"Your knack for understatement continues to impress," Shepard replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Two hours after the brief, frantic battle and the bodies were gone, if not the stains left behind by their blood. C-Sec had the block cordoned off and SRT officers were posted at every possible entrance to avoid unauthorized entry. Full combat armor and Argus assault rifles were the dress of the day rather than the blue fatigues that the average Citadel resident was used to seeing.

"I do not understand the need for my presence," Javik complained. "In my cycle such a breach of security would not have been possible. All such projects were heavily guarded. I am a soldier, not an investigator."

The prothean looked none too happy to have been drawn into another squabble between 'primitives' but Shepard was not about to let him off the hook. At least Vega, who had accompanied the ancient warrior at Shepard's request, was just looking quietly bored. As soon as the attack had ended the Spectre had sent orders that crew were to stay on guard and not to leave the ship alone.

"You're here because whatever this Leviathan is, I strongly suspect it's not something that just appeared in the last fifty thousand years. With Dr. Bryson dead and the damage to his systems... I want to make sure we don't miss anything. You might notice something we miss."

"I found one thing you missed already," Garrus interjected. "Compare Bryson's body to the rest of the room."

He gave the now empty chair a pointed look.

"You mean the body that's on its way to the morgue as we speak?"

The turian made an exasperated sound and reached into one of the sealed compartments on his armor. His hand emerged and tossed a small device at Shepard who snatched it out of the air. It immediately unfolded in his hands, taking the form of a slim eye piece.

"You have to be kidding me. You carry a spare?"

"I've been waiting for you to finally accept my superior fashion sense without luck," Garrus said and tapped the frame of the device over his own eye. "Put it on."

He gave his friend a skeptical look but finally acquiesced. The device whirred faintly as it adjusted to his head. As soon as the display activated, however, he found himself looking at an entirely different world. Data rushed in all at once.

When he looked at the desk where Bryson had died a holographic image appeared in the same position the body had been laying when C-Sec had arrived on the scene. Small notations trailed along the side of his vision: cause of death, the victim's age, vital statistics, and more. Scanning the rest of the room he could see each bullet hole glowing faintly and another holographic representation of where Bryson's research assistant had fallen.

The dimensions of the room danced at the corner of his eye while another datafeed highlighted the doorway across the lab, flagging it as under security lock down. Thorough to a fault, the program also listed off the door's specifications from its overall thickness to a military grade locking mechanism when he focused on it for a few seconds.

"You've had this for three years and you just now mention it?" Shepard countered, continuing to look around the room.

"Exactly how many crime scene investigations have we done in that time? Oh, that's right! It's usually other people following after us and wondering what the hell happened."

"Point taken. So what am I looking at?"

Garrus crossed over to the doctor's desk and tapped one talon on the glass surface.

"Look at how Bryson died: single gunshot wound to the chest. His desk is undamaged, terminal looks intact. His assistant? Took at least a dozen rounds. They opened up on the rest of this room and emptied their magazines... but they spared Bryson and his terminal, not even bothering to double tap him on the way out?"

"They could have been planning to finish the job when we arrived. These guys weren't prepared for actual resistance," he suggested. "No body armor, not even civilian level kinetic barriers."

"It doesn't make sense. If you're going to spray a room with an automatic weapon you don't do it in neat little sections. Not unless we're dealing with a squad of obsessive compulsive terrorists."

"So what's your theory then?"

"The doctor was killed by his assistant," Javik interjected before Garrus could reply.

The Spectre arched an eyebrow behind his loaned visor. "You're going to have to explain that one."

"Your primitive weapons leave behind a residue of the projectiles that they fire. The scent of the metal is distinct. I detected it on the man's body before your medical response teams removed the body."

"And you said you weren't an investigator," Garrus chuckled.

"I am not. I merely forget the limitations that your species operate under."

"I'm assuming you've already accounted for the fact that the assistant could have been trying to defend himself?" Shepard asked.

Garrus crouched next to the holographic outline of the fallen man and gestured at various points on the 'body'.

"All the rounds caught this kid in the back. He never got a chance to face his attackers, much less take a shot at them."

"This is making less sense by the minute," Shepard sighed. "A bunch of unidentified men with automatic weapons storm a lab no one should even know about in the first place. But they get here after someone has already shot the lead researcher?"

Neither of his alien companions had an answer for that particular question. Garrus' program continued to provide a wealth of information but none of it helped explain the bizarre situation. He was about to suggest they head back to the Normandy when the sealed double doors across the room suddenly opened with a hiss and EDI's silvery figure stepped out.

"My attempt to access the research lab was obviously successful. While the security hardlocks had been engaged for the doors the designers were clearly unable to modify the keeper access tunnels in such a way to prevent entry, instead relying on alarm systems and the difficulty of navigating them."

"Nice work, EDI. What have we got?" Shepard asked.

"An... interesting collection of research and artifacts. I am already attempting to decrypt the research terminals within but the late Doctor Bryson used impressive encryption protocols."

"A problem?"

"Of course not, Shepard. I was merely impressed. Most organics are not capable of designing encryption that will cause me significant delay. I will have access within the next two minutes," the AI assured him before turning to re-enter the research lab.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he followed, resisting the urge to ask the synthetic if that was a hint of pride that he'd detected. EDI hadn't been quite as stoic as Legion in refusing to acknowledge that synthetics could indeed evolve emotional responses but it seemed that those responses were becoming a little more noticeable every day.

His musing on synthetic emotional development ended the moment he stepped inside Bryson's secured lab. There were samples everywhere ranging from stone pillars to even a few plants and fossils. But one stood out amongst all the others: a curved shaft of metal with seams that were far too perfect to have come from nature or even the finest manufactures in the universe. Just looking at made his skin crawl.

"Is that a piece of fucking Sovereign?" Garrus snapped, hand automatically dropping to rest on the gun at his hip.

Shepard couldn't fault his friend's reaction, his own hand was wrapped around his gun with an iron grip, but EDI turned to face the irate turian calmly.

"An accurate observation. I detect elevated stress tones, Garrus. If you are worried about the possibilities of indoctrination..."

"You're damn right I'm worried about it. No wonder his assistant turned on him! We need to lock this place down now."

"Your caution is to be applauded... but I do not feel the same power from this fragment as I have from other remnants of the Reapers," Javik said, taking step closer to the chunk of metal. "I remember so long ago... a feeling like oil sliding over one's thoughts when in close proximity to Reaper technology. That feeling is absent here."

"Javik is correct," EDI assured them. "Doctor Bryson had the shard locked in a stasis field and I have already found regular documentation of mental evaluations for all those authorized to work on Task Force Aurora. No evidence of indoctrination can be found."

"Alright... stand down, Garrus. Maybe for once the scientists researching the horrific technology actually took appropriate precautions," Shepard agreed reluctantly.

His initial instinct had been to agree with his turian friend, but once his heart rate had slowed the Spectre found himself agreeing with Javik. No one was better qualified on the subject of indoctrination than he was at this point and the broken piece of Sovereign didn't instill any feelings beyond the immediate fight or flight reaction of an adrenaline surge. There was no sudden buzzing in his head or whispers just out of earshot. Just the steady hum of the bluish field surrounding the hunk of metal.

"Loco! You gotta check this out! This doc had some fucked up shit hanging around!"

Vega had apparently already made a loop around the larger laboratory while the rest of their attentions had been arrested by the fragment of the first Reaper that they had ever encountered. When he looked at what the soldier was carrying, however, he didn't feel much better.

"That is... just... not right," Garrus muttered.

The large human was holding a metal cylinder, atop that cylinder was a head. Namely the head of a husk. That alone would have classified it as a morbid object of study at best; a sick trophy at worst. But this head wasn't a taxidermied specimen. No, it was moving. Glowing eyes looked around the room while its mouth opened and closed in a voiceless scream.

"I have seen worlds burn and millions die," Javik said, eyeing the bizarre thing. "But I still find myself mildly disturbed."

EDI opened one of the terminals nearby to display an image of the device alongside a diagram of the brain and numerous other chunks of data that were far more complicated than anything he was qualified to deal with.

"It appears that Doctor Bryson was attempting to study neural patterns of husked individuals. His methods do seem rather extreme, however, and are far outside of ethical norms for Alliance researchers."

"Huh, I just thought it was weird as hell," James said with a shrug, sitting the head down on the counter. "Would make one hell of a conversation piece."

"Vega, if that thing shows up anywhere on my ship I swear to god that you'll be following it out the airlock," Shepard ordered bluntly. "Naked."

"But-"

"Air. Lock."

The younger soldier wisely decided not to press the issue. Ignoring the macabre display of the husk's disembodied head Shepard took note of the various other items that made up Bryson's collection of artifacts. Against one wall he immediately saw something familiar. A statue just like the ones they had seen on Ilos.

"I remember these... we thought they were what protheans looked like," Shepard commented, stepping closer to the stone figure.

"They were called the inusannon," Javik supplied. "Just as you assumed that my people created the mass relays and built your civilization from the ruins of ours, so did we make the same assumption of the inusannon. The cycle of extinction changed little."

"Did you know anything else about them?"

"No, few records were ever found. Only their statues provided an indication of their physical appearance and no records of their cultural or history were translated. A legacy that would still appear to be more than that left by my own people."

"Maybe not. You're still here... and the only reason any of us are here is because of the sacrifice of the Ilos researchers," Shepard said. "I've never seen an inusannon walking around. When we win this war you'll be damned sure history will remember the protheans."

Four golden eyes glanced in his direction.

"You assume we will win."

The Spectre shook his head.

"We don't have any other option. Now let's see if we can figure out what the hell happened here."

* * *

><p>Two monitors worth of data all told Shepard the same story. There weren't enough soldiers, ships, or weapons to fight the war that they needed to be fighting. It had been nearly twelve hours since EDI had begun work on Bryson's database but so far she had made no significant breakthroughs and the steady stream of information granted to him by his new position was no more promising.<p>

Reports from Omega were that Cerberus' occupation force had been surprisingly quiet but any ships attempting to approach or leave the station had been destroyed quickly. With no communications getting out and no ships breaking the blockade the Alliance had no real data on Omega's current situation. With no information and the heavily upgraded defensive emplacements any attempt to storm the massive station would result in massive casualties. Casualties they couldn't absorb.

Shepard sighed and dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes slowly. He knew what they needed to do if they were going to have a real chance at winning the war. Retake Omega. Find Leviathan. Figure out the Crucible and how to use it against the Reapers. The Spectre just didn't know precisely how to accomplish it. He was used to having a clear cut mission. Get in, get it done, get out.

"Keelah, you're like an _esoc_ with a rock-oyster!"

He looked up and blinked, finding Tali staring down at him with her hands on her hips.

"You explained the eh-sock thing once and I'm just going to assume that a rock-oyster is just what it says on the tin?"

"Oh no you don't," Tali chastised, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him to his feet. "You're not using the 'distract the quarian girl by getting her to talk about her people' tactic this time."

As tired as he was he couldn't help but grin.

"It usually works. And just 'quarian girl'? Does it work on every female of your species?"

"You'd better not be finding out!"

"No need to try. I found the only one I need," the Spectre replied and squeezed the hand on his forearm. "But I need to figure this out, Tali. If I make the wrong decision on this... thousands could pay the price."

Tali shook her head pulled him steadily farther away from the terminal at his desk.

"What you need is rest. The Normandy's basic maintenance will be completed tomorrow afternoon; she's going to need an extensive overhaul sometime soon but the ship will be combat ready at least," she explained firmly. "Which means you still have at least fourteen hours to figure out a plan... after EDI provides you with more data, not just the same old stuff you've been staring at for three hours."

"Three..." he mumbled, finally noticing the time. "I didn't even realize."

"I figured that out by the fact that you've tried to drink from the same empty coffee cup at least twice in the last half hour. Now. Sit!"

He had been skillfully maneuvered into position in front of his couch and Tali added to her command by giving him a forceful shove that planted the much larger human firmly on his rear. The quarian followed him down, straddling his hips to prevent any attempt at escape. Or at least any desire to escape as he felt her weight settle across his lap.

"When did you get so bossy?"

"Around the time that a certain human started neglecting his health and sanity again because he can't let go for a few hours."

Shepard rested his hands on her thighs and smiled tiredly.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

She stopped his protest by place a finger against his lips and reaching up with her other hand to her face mask. A familiar hiss echoed in the suddenly quiet cabin. Tali set the mask aside and looked at him with smile that mirrored his own. Some part of him knew that, if every ounce of luck in the universe was with him, he would eventually get used to seeing Tali's face. But for now it still gave him a small rush every time she removed the visor.

"I know," Tali said, her voice now clear and unfiltered by her suit. "Your 'white-knight' complex that Miranda always talked about... and one of the reasons I fell in love with you in the first place."

Before he could say anything the quarian traced her fingers along his chin and continued.

"But now I understand why she thought it was a liability. You climbed out of a hole on Utukku... came back to the Citadel and fought Cerberus. Barely a week later and we were fighting for our lives on Rannoch. Now I see you pouring over files and casualty reports every night."

"I'm the 'Praetor', it's my job."

"And no matter what you think... you're still human," she countered.

"So are all the people dying out there. And asari, turians, salarians..."

Tali's hands dropped to his chest, balling up his shirt in her fists. She fixed him with a hard stare, betrayed only by the faint shimmer that would normally have been hidden behind her visor.

"I won't... can't... watch you slip away again, John. I know everyone in the galaxy needs you, but I don't want there to be nothing left of you when it's over."

His objections slipped away at the look of pain that crossed her face. Shepard lifted his hands up cup the young engineer's face, feeling the softness of her skin and marveling at the contrast of his weathered hands against the cool gray of Tali's complexion.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

He pulled her face down to his for a kiss, one that quickly changed from tender to urgent. The quarian's grip on his shirt tightened even further and she pressed herself against him almost desperately. After a few long minutes Shepard finally pulled away, both of them breathing heavily. Tali's lips were still parted slightly exposing her small, pointed set of double canines.

"What's wrong?"

Tali shook her head.

"Nothing. I was talking to Kasumi earlier and it reminded me how much time we've lost... the scars we've collected along the way. And suddenly I just thought of it happening again and I couldn't stand it."

"It won't happen again," Shepard reassured her. "I'm not being tormented by the Reapers. Or afraid that I'm going to ruin your life by telling you how I feel. Or locked up in an Alliance detention facility. Or any of the other stupid reasons that kept us apart."

"I'm still going to worry."

"I know. One of those reasons I fell in love with you."

He smirked and pulled her head down for another quick kiss.

"Tali, I'm always going to have... problems. The things I've done just to make it here... they're never going to go away. They shouldn't; too much blood and pain came from them. But I've at least learned that I can't keep everyone out. Especially not you."

"Good," Tali said, resting her forehead against his. "I told you I wasn't going to let you take responsibility for the entire war and I meant it."

At some point when he hadn't been paying attention to such minor details Tali had managed to remove her gloves, a fact he discovered when she caressed his cheek again, this time with her bare hand. Shepard reached up and wrapped it in his own five fingered grip.

"Aren't you worried about a reaction?"

"Mmm? Oh, no... didn't you notice that I didn't have any adverse effects after we kissed on Rannoch?"

"I was kind of distracted," he replied.

"I'm sure you remember the week on Ilium..."

His grin widened.

"Definitely. Probably one of the happiest weeks of my life and not just because I discovered your love of showers."

"Well, it goes along with what started all this," Tali said, her skin flushed. "Usually couples on the Fleet link suit environments to adapt before entering a clean room together. That week was, ah... very good for my immune system. It's adapted to you now. No more reactions."

"So you're telling me no more drugs or horrible sickness just to be able to be with you like this?"

The quarian reached up and released the clasp that secured the armor around her neck. That piece of her suit joined her gloves and mask next to them on the couch. He couldn't help but notice that most of the other accessories that usually adorned her suit were already absent, piled neatly on his coffee table.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"That might be the best news I've gotten all week."

Tali leaned closer now, brushing her cheek against his to whisper in his ear with a voice that was almost a purr.

"Then maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere else?"

In one smooth motion Shepard stood, pushing off of the couch with one hand while the other slipped under the quarian's thighs to lift her with him. The precaution was unnecessary if the way her legs immediately locked around him was any indication, but he wasn't about to risk dropping her now. Shepard smirked as he deposited her on her back in the bed.

"Is this what you had in mind?"

The fervent kiss that she pressed to his lips gave him all the answer he needed. The war could wait for a little while.

* * *

><p>A dozen sets of eyes watched Shepard intently. Multiple sets like the shimmering azure of the rachni or Javik's amber quartet, far more human browns and blues, or even the faint glow of EDI's synthetic equivalents. His team of misfits and oddities. It just made what he had to do all the more difficult.<p>

"Good morning, people. I hope you've enjoyed the brief respite because we've got work to do. As you all know by now the contact for our next mission was killed yesterday. The good news is that EDI was able to recover a significant amount of Bryson's data."

Numerous heads bobbed in acknowledgement along with a few uttered curses. He could almost read the mind of the sentients standing around the war room.

"The doctor's research was extensive," the AI explained. "Many of his hypotheses are groundbreaking, including data that suggests that rachni evolution was influenced by an outside source approximately one hundred and fifty thousand years ago specifically to create a species that would not fall along the path that the Reapers expected of organic life."

_Our evolution was not natural?_ Fury sang to the room, the words echoing audibly as well thanks to the rachni's communications device.

"I've reviewed the data. It's not conclusive but there's a strong argument based on the trends that the doctor observed," Liara replied. "For example..."

Shepard raised a hand, forestall a detailed scientific explanation.

"Right now it's not extremely relevant. Rachni evolution is an academic topic we can save for later. The problem is that despite all this data none of it pinpoints the location of Leviathan... every trail goes cold. Whatever this thing is it's surprisingly good at covering its tracks and it's getting harder to find the longer this war goes on."

"So why don't we just run it to ground?" Vega suggested.

"Not that simple, Lieutenant. We still don't even know what Leviathan is, much less where it's hiding. This isn't some wild animal that we're trying to corner. It's something old, powerful, and very interested in staying hidden in the middle of a war. Which brings me to our next issue."

A floating image of Omega appeared on the war room's holo display.

"A plan, a somewhat crazy plan, was proposed at the last meeting of the Alliance's military leaders..."

"You mean crazier than forming a multi-species System's Alliance, appointing you Praetor, and yanking the political rug out from under the Council?" Garrus asked with false innocence.

A chorus of chuckles came from around the room and Shepard could only join them. He was still surprised that he himself hadn't broken down laughing hysterically after that last meeting.

"Yes, crazier than that," he agreed. "We need a stronghold that the Reapers can't smash whenever the whim strikes them. For now we've managed because the truth of the matter is the Reapers just don't seem to care. Our resistance has annoyed them, but they've had no reason to deviate from business as usual. Even if we throw our entire fleet at them... chances are we'd lose."

The Spectre let that thought sink in for a moment. It was a harsh truth, but one they all needed to face. Even with the rachni and geth backing them they had barely sixty operational dreadnoughts. Assuming they were able to bring the asari and salarian governments into the Alliance officially that number might swell into the seventies. If they threw everything they had into the combined Reaper fleet it would be a battle on the scale that galaxy likely had never seen.

Short of a miracle, however, when the dust cleared it would be the Reapers that would emerge victorious. Their vessels were too powerful and too numerous. He had no doubt that their fury would leave the Reapers suffering far more than any cycle before or since... but that is all it would be, a defiant last stand. A final cry of rage against the dying of the light. A hope that when the next cycle came the scars that their enemies bore would give those that came later a chance to end things once and for all.

"I'm not about to throw in the towel just yet," Joker said. "So what's the plan?"

"Simple. The Reapers have endless waves of dreadnoughts and cruisers. We make a rock for those waves to break on," he replied and tapped his omni-tool.

The hologram began to move, showing numerous ships physically towing the massive space station through the Omega relay. Once on the other side the playback continued. Omega was settled into a position similar to where the Collector base had once hung ominously within the debris field. Ships filled the space around it, all aligned with the relay. A digital Reaper appeared through the relay... and all the holographic ships opened fire.

"Well... that's definitely a little crazy," Garrus muttered.

"A little? That's certifiably insane!" Miranda objected. "Ignoring the fact that Cerberus is currently in control of Omega..., you are talking about dragging a prothean space station, billions of metric tons in mass, through a relay to the galactic core!"

"Exactly. The Reapers won't ever expect it and once we establish a foothold on the other side we'll have the one place in the entire galaxy that we'll have an advantage. The risk is enormous but it's one we have to take."

"Your species will not survive through caution," Javik agreed. "And should you fall, then at least many Reaper corpses will be added to the debris field as a reminder that they are not invincible."

Joker snorted.

"Uplifting as always, Prothey."

The Spectre held up a hand and motioned for quiet. With another tap of his omni-tool the hologram of Omega and the galactic core froze.

"As if that wasn't enough securing Omega isn't our only problem. Our search for Leviathan can't wait."

"This thing has apparently been around for a few thousand years, don't think it's going anywhere now, Skipper," Ashley objected. "If you ask me having a defensible position sounds better than some mythical space monster that kills Reapers."

EDI stepped forward, standing with her hands at the small of her back with the kind of poise only a synthetic or socialite could have pulled off.

"Unfortunately we are not the only ones interested in Leviathan. Operative Lawson has helped to identify at least two of the dead men that attacked Bryson's lab as Cerberus agents."

"Great. I'm sure they just want to find it to hug it and kiss it and call it George," Kasumi sighed.

Numerous confused glances, alien and human, turned in the thief's direction but she merely rolled her eyes.

"Nevermind. I'm not explaining cartoons to an evolved velociraptor, two giant bugs, and the rest of you."

Shepard could only shake his head and continue.

"I don't think I need to explain that Cerberus locating Leviathan first cannot be allowed to happen. We have to track down every possible lead which includes locating the one person that can likely make sense of Doctor Bryson's research: his daughter. To put it simply I can't be in two places at once and as much as I hate to split up this team... we're running out of time."

Everyone in the room had gone still. There was a familiarity in their team, a sense of invincibility that even after all of their setbacks had never completely faded. The thought of breaking that up was likely as unsettling to everyone else as it had been to him.

"This isn't a decision I make lightly but there are two missions with two very different goals. I'll be taking the Normandy and going after Leviathan with a small team. The rest of you will be assigned to a turian frigate, the _Natarius_. I'm told it translates into 'unbreakable'."

The silence continued to linger until Garrus finally shifted in his seat and spoke up.

"Like it or not, it's the right decision. I take it I'll be commanding the mission to Omega?"

"No, you won't," Shepard corrected. "You've already shown that this work is going to require an investigator's eye. Miranda?"

The first time since he'd met the genetically engineered operative he saw Miranda Lawson actually start in surprise. She fixed him with something between a glare and an expression of shock.

"Are you certain, Shepard?"

"Completely. Cerberus currently controls Omega and this is an operation that's going to require the management of a staggering amount of resources. Of anyone on this crew you have the most experience running a large operation."

"So that just leaves the rest of us?" Vega asked.

Shepard nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"With Miranda taking command of the _Natarius_ she is going to need an XO. That's you, Vega."

"_Que_? I... but what about Williams? She's a fracking Spectre..." the marine stammered.

"Ash is going to be in charge of coordinating with Hackett to bring remaining elements of the First Fleet to bear against any mobile elements Cerberus has defending Omega. A position I'm sure she much prefers."

An emphatic nod from Ashley proved his assumption right. Technically Miranda would still be in charge of the operation but not having to work quite so closely with the former Cerberus operative would keep friction to a minimum. Beyond that he simply had to trust in the pair's professionalism. Vega, however, didn't look reassured.

"I'm just not sure, _loco_, I mean-"

He cut the younger man off, trying to keep his reasoning as generic as possible out of respect in light the numerous people in the war room.

"I'm fully aware of all the details of your last mission, Vega. One of the few benefits to being promoted with this ridiculous title. However you feel about the decision you made... you did what had to be done. You might have to again. And I have the confidence that you are the man that will make the right decision when the time comes. Which is why you will be taking the position as Miranda's executive officer on this mission, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good," he continued. "Javik, Liara? You'll also be accompanying Miranda. If you have to storm Omega by force you're going to need all the powerful biotics you can get. Sings-Fury will be joining you, while Sings-Twilight will stay with the Normandy. With luck the rachni queens will be able to keep us in contact better than any comm system."

_We will fight for Defiant-Singer!_ The reddish-hued brood warrior sang enthusiastically.

"Well, you've got the rachni's vote... and really what more do you need?" Garrus quipped.

"You haven't mentioned me or Kasumi..." Tali trailed off.

"That's because you're coming with me," the Spectre said. "Can't let me chief engineer abandon her post and something tells me the galaxy's best, if not most famous, thief will be invaluable when hunting the galaxies most elusive myth. We'll be rendezvousing with the _Natarius_ in eighteen hours; everyone clear?"

All those eyes looked back at him. Some worried, some not. But in each there was a certainty of purpose. The best of the best. The best he would ever serve with.

"Good. Then the only thing left to say is good luck, godspeed... and give'em hell."

* * *

><p>An hour later Shepard found himself in the cargo hold making sure every piece of gear his people might need was ready for transfer to the <em>Natarius<em>. According to the information Victus had provided him the turian vessel was a near mirror to the Normandy herself. Where the original Normandy had been a joint turian-human venture that clearly leaned more towards its human roots the Natarius was the Hierarchy's interpretation on everything they had learned from the project. He could only hope it served Miranda as well as the Normandy he served him.

"Commander."

He turned to find the former Cerberus operative standing behind him as if summoned by his thoughts. As always she stood with her back straight and eyes forward, alert and on edge. Even in all the time they'd spent working together during the Collector mission Shepard would be hard pressed to say he had ever seen his executive officer relax.

"Everything in order, Miranda?"

"Yes. The... my ground team's gear has all be verified for transport and the last communication from the _Natarius_ has them on schedule."

"Then why do I get the feeling you're about to say something else?" he said, turning from the various lockers of supplies and leaning back against them.

"Why me?" Miranda asked bluntly.

The Spectre crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow.

"You spent the first two months after we met impressing on me your abilities. I'd think the answer to that would be obvious."

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Technically I wasn't boasting. I will admit to possibly being somewhat... overzealous," she said. "I'm fully aware of my abilities. False modesty is a useless character trait. But this mission, working with the Alliance? Commanding an entire strike force? This is exactly the sort of thing you've been grooming Garrus for."

"I did mention that I need Garrus to be a detective for once..."

"Please, you're taking the Normandy which means you'll have access to EDI's platform. Argue all you want for organic instinct over synthetic reason but we both know she is more than capable of performing any service Garrus can provide. He's a Spectre, ex-turian military, and your second in command. He should be the one leading this task force."

Shepard sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"So you think this is some kind of... consolation prize to you?"

"I don't know what to think. I respect you, but I know that you're much more kind-hearted than your reputation would suggest," the operative stated.

He snorted in amusement.

"It would probably be nicer if that was the case, Miranda. Despite all our differences since we met I do respect your abilities and I've learned a great deal about you. Your time with Cerberus meant you had to make a great deal of decisions that were harsh."

"We've had this discussion before," Miranda agreed. "Lives were lost. I felt that the ends justified the means... after learning to exactly what ends the Illusive Man was willing to go sometimes I do question those decisions."

"But you made them and I know you could make them again with the right justification. This mission... everything can go wrong, very easily. People can die. Not just a few soldiers or even friends, but thousands of people."

It was Miranda's turn to cross her arms, giving him a puzzled look.

"I am aware of the risks. You're usually much better at inspiring speeches then this, Shepard."

"Because this one isn't meant to be inspiring," he replied with a sad smile. "The reason I chose you is twofold... as much as I hate to break up this team I'm even more reluctant to send Garrus anywhere else. He and Tali are the ones that have been with me every step of the way since I first set foot on the Citadel."

"And the other reason?"

"The other reason is that of anyone on this crew you're the one person I know that will make the hard decision if it comes down to it. You can put aside the emotion, look at the big picture. Even if the big picture means that a lot of people die."

Miranda blinked. For a moment she seemed ready to respond only to pause and think of her answer before finally speaking.

"You chose me because I'm cold."

"Does that bother you?"

She shrugged.

"A year ago I would have complimented you on your rational decision. Now... maybe a little."

"That's what makes you perfect. A year ago I wouldn't have trusted you to make that call. I'd be worried that you'd be too willing to sacrifice lives in the name of expediency," Shepard explained. "My instincts told me that there was more inside you. Now? I know you'll still do what's necessary, but there's more there than just cold logic. Maybe that makes me crueler for putting you in that position."

"Or it means that you've changed as well," she suggested. "We all have in some manner. I have a sister now. Something I have you to thank for."

"Don't remind me. It's easier to put people in harm's way when you don't think about the families they're leaving behind. How is Orianna?"

A full smile appeared on the woman's face for the first time and she nodded.

"Safe, for now at least. I knew they wouldn't be safe after my... resignation from Cerberus and the Reaper attacks only drove that point home. I finally got them to the one place where Cerberus at least can't reach."

"The Illusive Man was rather proud of his 'long reach'. Where did you find this place?" Shepard asked dryly.

"Tuchanka."

Shepard stared at her, completely nonplussed.

"I... wait, Tuchanka? Planet full of giant thresher maws and krogan? Angry, often mercenary krogan?"

"Before now it would never have been an option," the operative replied. "But that was before it was Urdnot Wrex's Tuchanka. I will admit I abused my status as a member of the Normandy's crew but it didn't take nearly as much convincing as I expected once I explained the danger Orianna and her family were in. It seems their status as part of 'Clan Shepard' makes them virtually sacrosanct."

"You said 'Clan Shepard'..." he muttered.

Miranda seemed to be enjoying herself now, her smile turning wicked as the Spectre dropped his head into his hands with a sigh.

"I did, Commander. Your status has apparently earned an almost cult-like status among the krogan. Your crew are officially referred to as part of Clan Shepard. Apparently dependents of your crew fall under that same protection. It's all quite convenient really, Tuchanka isn't exactly paradise but Orianna is a smart enough young woman to know that safety is more important than comfort."

He shook his head.

"No good deed goes unpunished."

"Not even one. I thought you were an overconfident, self-righteous idealist when Project Lazarus began and even after you woke up."

"Depending on who you ask that's not entirely wrong," he said.

Omni-tools beeped, his showing Joker requesting his presence while hers seemed to indicate an update from the Natarius. She looked at him, the smile having faded and her expression serious once again when she spoke.

"As I already said, false modesty is a useless character flaw. Confidence is born from ability. Idealism from the will to make your beliefs into reality. You have the one thing I've given very few people in my life, Shepard: my respect."

The former Cerberus agent extended her hand and Shepard grasped it firmly, something flashing in the woman's eyes and her expression softening briefly.

"A man couldn't ask for more. Good luck, Miranda. I know that the next time we see each other you'll have proven my instincts have always been right."

"Thank you, Shepard. Good hunting."

* * *

><p>Third watch had only just begun when Shepard returned to his quarters. Everyone's gear had been secured and the <em>Natarius<em> would be making the rendezvous in just under eight hours. He had said his personal goodbyes to most of the crew that would be transferring to the turian ship and despite his misgivings about the idea he felt at least a little more at peace with his decision.

"I was wondering if you were going to just wander around the ship until everyone left," Tali said as he stepped down into the living area.

The quarian was sitting on the couch with her legs tucked beneath her, datapad in hand containing yet another schematic far beyond his technical skills. He took a seat beside and slid an arm around her shoulders.

"I considered it, but I figured I'd let everyone get some sleep instead of trading stories," he replied with a smirk. "It's going to take some adapting for everyone."

Tali poked him in the ribs with the datapad.

"Yes, everyone."

"Are you implying something, Ms. Vas Normandy?"

"Splitting up the crew couldn't have been an easy decision."

"It wasn't," he admitted. "But it was a necessary one."

"As long as you don't obsess over it. Miranda will take care of them. That uptight _bosh'tet_ might not be my favorite person, but she is nothing if not extremely competent."

Shepard chuckled.

"That might be the nicest thing I've ever heard you say about her."

This earned him another jab to the ribs before they both drifted into silence, Tali studying her datapad and Shepard merely thinking. His mind constantly wanted to dwell on what could happen, every worst case scenario or crisis that could spell doom for his friends and allies. Sometimes he wished he was half the unstoppable, unflappable Commander Shepard that people envisioned him as. Instead it was only his crew that ever saw the real him.

EDI's voice interrupted his musings.

"Shepard, Liara T'Soni is requesting permission to enter your quarters."

His eyebrows raised and he double checked the time.

"Let her in."

The asari entered, holding something under her arm, but stopped short as the threshold as she took in Shepard and the quarian sitting together on the couch.

"My apologies... I hope I'm not interrupting. I can come back-"

"The suit is still on, Liara, I don't think you're in danger of any interruptions," Tali teased.

Liara briefly flushed a darker blue and shook her head, stepping further into the room and placing the small gray box on his coffee table.

"Ah, yes. I'm just going to leave that alone. Actually it's probably good that you're here, Tali. There is something I wanted to discuss with Shepard but your input could be invaluable."

He looked down at the device the scientist had set down but couldn't discern its purpose.

"I'll bite," Shepard said. "What is it?"

"A project that I've been working on for some time. A record or a time capsule, if you will. All our combined knowledge of the Reapers, the mass relays, species of our cycle and those that came before us," Liara explained. "Vigil on Ilos was our first chance to learn the truth about what was coming. If we fail... I want the next cycle to have a better chance."

"I thought the plan was to not lose in the first place," Tali suggested drolly.

Liara frowned.

"Before I became an information broker I was an archaeologist. I learned that no civilization plans to fall but all eventually do. I'd rather plan for the worst than let everything we accomplished be forgotten."

"It's a good plan," Shepard agreed, squeezing Tali's shoulders. "I don't want to think about what happens if we lose either, but it's part of the job description. Fifty thousand years is a long time for a computer to last, though."

"Have a little faith," the asari chided. "The case is made of silaris nanofiber alloy with a micro-reactor similar to those that power combat omni-tools. With the low power demands of this device it could remain completely intact in passive mode for nearly a hundred thousand years. I've also loaded it with every linguistic and translation program I could get my hands on."

He looked at the inconspicuous gray rectangle with newfound respect. Less attention grabbing than the development of thanix cannons or advanced barriers but the technology involved was undoubtedly cutting edge. Their message in a bottle.

"We are going to seed them on dozens of planets, launched via special torpedoes to imbed them in the planet's surface without damaging the device," Liara continued. "This change of plans means I can't wait to finish the information files. You're certain that you want me to go with Miranda?"

Shepard nodded sadly.

"I'd prefer to have my original team together again as long as possible... but your connections as the Shadow Broker could prove invaluable to Miranda's efforts to retake Omega while we already know that the Broker didn't have anything on Leviathan."

"Too bad, it would have made things easier," Tali sighed. "So what is left to add to the records?"

"Just one entry that I wanted to get Shepard's input on."

"Which one?" he asked.

Liara leaned forward and pressed down on the computer's surface. A tiny round hologram appeared at first that resembled a combat drone in miniature before blinking out of existence, replaced by a hologram of none other than himself. The holographic Commander Shepard was standing at parade rest wearing the jet black armor that he currently used.

"Yours."

"I get my own entry?"

Both women sighed in unison.

"Cured the genophage. Saved Rannoch. Destroyed Sovereign. United the galaxy? Of course you get an entry!" Tali berated him before looking to Liara. "Was he this bad aboard the SR-1? I want to say yes but I was a little... um distracted to be unbiased."

"And I wasn't?" Liara countered with a small smile.

"I'm glad the two of you are getting along so well these days," Shepard interjected. "But I'm right here. Do you really need to put me in there? If someone finds this it will mean that I'm the one that led this cycle straight into its own destruction."

The scientist shook her head.

"The people in that time will need heroes, even ancient, alien ones. You're right, if they find this then it means that we lost. But it means we lost fighting. We've come farther than any cycle before. The only question is what do you want me to say?"

He paused and glanced between the two women that were watching him expectantly. What would he want to say about himself to someone that would be listening to the story of his life in fifty thousand years? To them, he would be ancient history, a myth that might or might not have existed. Shepard closed his eyes for a brief second and spoke.

"Tell them the truth. Both of you know me better than I know myself. Let them hear it all and we can hope that the truth will be enough to convince them."

"The truth..." Liara trailed off.

She finally took a seat on the couch and began to speak.

"Commander Johnathan Shepard was a child of Earth, but in truth was born and raised in space. He joined the System's Alliance military at a young age and excelled in his duties, eventually becoming the most famous and decorated officer humanity had to offer. In our year of 2183 he became the first human member of the elite Special Tactics and Reconnaissance team."

Liara steepled her fingers and continued.

"The Commander was a peerless combatant and a masterful leader, commanding the loyalty of his friends and crew without question. In time he helped found the New Systems Alliance to unite the galaxy against the Reapers and was named Praetor of that Alliance, given the burden of leading us all in the final battles of this great war."

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Shepard was about to object to the rather glowing terms used but found himself overruled by Tali, picking up almost as soon as Liara left off.

"Shepard was more than just a warrior, however. He made peace where he could and fought for those that couldn't help themselves. Tireless and devoted to his ideals the Commander gave us all an ideal to strive for and never stood by when he saw injustice, putting himself in harm's way and ignoring any risk to himself. We are each better for having known him."

When Tali finally trailed off she nodded at Liara who deactivated the device. Shepard rubbed the back of his neck and gave a lame smile.

"Seems like... a little much. You're turning me into some kind of legend."

"You wanted the truth, Shepard," Liara said, picking up the time capsule. "Now you have it. You might think of yourself as just another man but you're not. I've taken recordings from almost every member of your crew. Each one said something similar."

"All I've ever done was what I thought was right. Made the decisions that were necessary," he insisted. "I was just in the right place at the right time to make them."

Tali reached out and squeezed his hand.

"And that's how real legends are made."

* * *

><p><em>After much delay, the next chapter arrives with some changes for the Normandy crew. Hope you all enjoy and thanks again to Tankobite for his quick betaing. I've also been very interested to see the TV Tropes page come to life, so thank you everyone that's contributed! It's been great to see the parts that everyone loved or what they thought of the changes I've made. <em>


	29. Chapter 28: Darkness

_AN: I don't usually do this, but some particularly appropriate mood music for this chapter can be found here: youtube DOT com SLASH watch?v=LlkYz6Il4JM_

Chapter 28: Darkness

"We're five minutes out from the Mahavid facility, Commander," Joker said over the comm. "They apparently don't have any airlocks that can handle the Normandy though, so you're going to have to take the shuttle over."

"Understood. Did they say if Dr. Garneau was on station?"

"No, actually... the guy handling their control wouldn't even talk to me. Just gave me a docking bay number and disconnected the line. Jerk. This place looks pretty rough too, Commander. Some carbon scores on the domes and I'm tracking debris in orbit around the main asteroid."

"They sound friendly. You'd think this far out with the Reapers so close they'd be thrilled to see an Alliance warship," Garrus said.

The Spectre shrugged.

"Fear does strange things to people. Maybe they're afraid we'll attract the attention of the Reapers by showing up. Our objective is simple: find Doctor Alex Garneau and get out. Hopefully he can help us with the next piece of this puzzle Bryson left for us."

"Right, find Garneau. Get more clues, keep hunting Leviathan," Garrus summarized. "In all this searching and research EDI's been going through, have we even figured out what Leviathan is?"

"It destroyed a Reaper. Does it really matter?" Tali asked. "We just want it on our side."

"Well... it would be a little strange if it was like, a tiny animal with massive cosmic power wouldn't it?" Kasumi suggested.

"Tali's right, in the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter. We find Garneau, we find Leviathan and worry about the details as they come to us. If these miners know where Garneau is and they're already on edge we need to try not to spook them."

_This means you would wish for us to remain on the hive-ship?_

Kasumi reached out to pat the rachni on its dark, shiny carapace.

"Sorry, Big T, but something tells me 'rachni warrior' and 'put people at ease' aren't usually in the same sentence."

"She's right, I'm afraid you'll need to remain on the ship with EDI. The files we have are out of date but everything indicates this mining colony is owned by a fully human corporation and I doubt they get that many visitors. A turian and a quarian is enough 'different' for one visit," Shepard agreed. "We want to be as friendly as possible."

_We understand and will remain on the hive-ship._

"I hope you're not suggesting we also go unarmed?" Garrus asked dryly.

"Friendly, not stupid. Leave the assault weaponry here but sidearms for everyone. Max population for a facility around this size is forty to fifty tops, so unless they all turn out to be murderous pirates in very boring disguises I think we'll be fine."

He could almost hear Tali rolling her eyes when she spoke.

"You just had to say it, didn't you?"

Shepard hadn't expected great fanfare at their arrival, but the complete lack of any greeting was surprising. No station personnel awaited them when the cycle had finished. The airlock was dusty and showed signs of only occasional use. The only indication of any activity at all was a man at the other end of the loading bay welding something that sat across a stack of metal storage crates.

He glanced at Tali next to him but she merely shrugged. For a quarian no welcome at all was likely better than any greeting her people were used to getting. Determined to stick with his plan of 'friendly Spectre' Shepard popped the seals on his helmet and pulled it off as they approached the loading bay's lone occupant. Immediately he noticed how the air smelled stale, like a room that had been closed up for months.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone. A researcher that probably arrived in the last few weeks-" he began.

"Welcome to TGES Minerals. Please check in at the front desk," the worker interrupted, not even bothering to lift his protective mask.

Before Shepard could even formulate another question the man had triggered the welder once more, sending sparks showering around him. He tried waving to gain the man's attention back but he was clearly focused on his work. Whatever that work was the Spectre couldn't quite figure out. The item balanced across the crates appeared to be a smooth rod a meter in length with a few open panels that displayed some kind of circuitry. Something told him he wasn't likely to get an explanation from the curt worker about the nature of his project.

"Yep... real friendly," Kasumi muttered.

Ignoring the thief's comment he proceeded towards the archway leading out of the docking area. He tapped the door controls once when they didn't open immediately only to have the panel flicker and go dark. The Spectre frowned and thumped the panel hard with the back of his hand. Lights reappeared and the door hissed open at last.

"The maintenance crew of this station is doing a terrible job. Everything looks like it hasn't been serviced in months," Tali complained.

"Smells like it too," Garrus added. "Sweat, stale air, oil... chemicals. If I smelled more blood and trash I'd feel like I was back on Omega."

Shepard could only shrug.

"With the war it could have been a long time since they've seen a supply shipment. The fact that they're even still here with the Reapers' proximity to this system is amazing. Even if the guy in the docking bay wasn't bothered, most the workers here must be on edge."

Conditions didn't improve when they finally entered what he assumed was the reception area. A few people were speaking in muted tones when the doors opened but stopped to watch the quartet of unfamiliar figures with blank stares. A few meters away a faded sign over a window indicated that they'd located the main desk.

"They're taking this whole war thing pretty well, don't you think?" Garrus said when the trio of workers to their left finally stopped staring and returned to their quiet conversation without further acknowledging their presence.

"So I'm noticing..." he muttered and made his way to the reception desk, rapping on the glass. "I'm Commander Shepard of the Alliance. I need to speak with the station's commanding officer."

The man behind the glass looked up and nodded.

"Welcome to T-GES Mineral Works. For the tour please sign in."

"The... tour?"

No one was listening, however, as the worker had already looked back down at the screen in front of him. The other man working behind the glass seemed equally disinterested, staring at his computer screen and tapping out commands in a steady cadence. Shepard frowned and knocked on the glass more forcefully this time.

"I'm not looking for a tour," he said curtly. "I'm a Spectre here on official business looking for a man named Alex Garneau. His last destination was this mining station."

"There is no Alex Garneau here."

He looked to his left. A woman in a dirty gray jumpsuit was staring at him, hands at her sides as she continued to speak. She looked to be in her mid thirties with a name tag sewn onto her jumpsuit but thread was frayed and nearly gone, leaving only the first letter: an 'N'.

"There is nothing for you here. You should go."

"I'm afraid I can't take your word for it. It's possible he used another name. I'll need access to your computer systems and the rest of the station. Are you in charge here?"

"The elevator to the lower levels is broken. You should go," she responded tonelessly.

Apparently considering their conversation over the woman turned and walked away, rejoining another pair of similarly dressed individuals and resuming their conversation in hushed tones. Shepard blinked, looking from side to side.

"Something is very wrong here, Shepard," Garrus hissed quietly. "I've heard more enthusiasm in a room full of elcor."

"Maybe they're just... in shock?" Tali asked. "Joker said there was debris outside, maybe they've already suffered Reaper attacks."

Kasumi shook her head. "No, he's right. These aren't acting like people that are in shock, overwhelmed by emotion and trauma... they're not acting like... anything. I'm pretty good at reading people and I'm not even getting an eye-twitch from anyone."

"All right, we need to get down to the lower levels and see what the hell is going on. Kasumi, I want your omni-tool scanning for any toxins or other contaminants. The first sign of anything I want you and Garrus back on the shuttle and fully sealed up," Shepard ordered. "Tali, see what you can do about this elevator."

As they approached the elevator all eyes turned towards the four of them once more, but no words were spoken by any of the workers. He could feel his muscles tense while Tali knelt next to the elevator's open control panel. Every passing second put his nerves further on edge. His first thought was an obvious one. Indoctrination. But these people weren't raving lunatics or trying to kill him. They were simply blank.

For once he actually tried to hear the scratchy whispers that had plagued his thoughts for months, closing his eyes and relaxing his hold on the walls he had mentally created. But nothing came. He didn't feel the painful pull of the Reapers or even the barest hint of their influence. Only complete silence.

"Shepard?"

He opened his eyes and looked down to see his engineer press a button on the panel.

"What is it?"

"There's nothing wrong with this elevator..." Tali said. "Someone just disconnected one of the fuses. Any soldier that had even completed basic training could have fixed this."

The quarian tapped the panel and the elevator doors opened with a hiss. He glanced back at the lobby but the position of the workers hadn't changed. Each one stood perfectly still, watching them. He gestured for the others to enter the elevator, resting a hand lightly on the pistol at his hip and backing into the lift. He expected someone to pull a weapon, raise an alarm, something... but nothing came.

"Let's find out what's going on here," he said and keyed in one of the lower floors.

Nothing happened. The doors didn't even close. He hit the button once more.

The woman that had addressed him before finally spoke, seeming to stare straight into his eyes even through his helmet. It was then that he realized one of the things that was bothering him. Everyone had been staring at him since they'd entered. And he'd never seen any of them blink.

"You should not have come."

The lights in the elevator flicked and died, replaced by the dim red of the emergency bulbs.

"The darkness must not be breached."

Before he could respond the floor seemed to disappear from beneath his feet. Shepard felt himself falling...

* * *

><p>Garrus groaned and rolled onto his side. The acrid stench of burnt oil and electronics filled his nostrils, jolting him abruptly to full consciousness. His pupils dilated in the scant light, searching for clues as to his location. Memory returned. Mahavid. Strange employees. An elevator.<p>

Cursing and coughing he struggled to his feet, activating his omni-tool to shed some light. Kasumi was shaking her head and muttering something that his translator couldn't make out but looked relatively unharmed. Shepard was helping Tali up. They still seemed to be inside the elevator but all the control panels were dark.

"Everyone okay?" Shepard asked.

"Bruises... I will have many bruises," Tali replied. "But no suit ruptures or broken bones."

"Same here," Kasumi agreed.

Garrus nodded and rubbed the plates of his face. "Yea, same just hit my head here. What the hell happened?"

"Elevator dropped but the emergency overrides went into effect before we hit bottom, locked everything down," the engineer explained. "If they hadn't we'd be much more... damaged."

"Shit. Okay, this just stopped being a friendly mission," Shepard said. "Any idea what floor we stopped on?"

Tali tapped at the panel repeatedly and finally opened the control box near the floor. Aside from a single spark nothing happened, eliciting a few select quarian curses from the engineer.

"Pretty sure that's a no," the turian drawled and looked to Shepard, gesturing at the door. "Shall we?"

"Tali, Kasumi: cover."

Both women drew their pistols and took up positions at the rear of the ruined elevator while he and Shepard gripped the doors. One hard yank created a small gap but the doors were clearly resisting either from disuse or from being warped due to the sudden stop. The turian let out a low growl and pulled once more. Something gave way with a screech of metal and the doors opened halfway before stopping cold. Dim, reddish light filtered through the dust but did little to brighten the elevator.

"We should be able to make it through now," Garrus said, jerking his head towards the opening while maintaining his grip.

"You heard the man. Ladies first," Shepard added.

A few moments later they had extracted themselves from what he could only assume was meant to be a death trap. The former C-Sec officer scanned their surroundings. The dull gray corridor looked just as unkempt as the first floor had above: crates stacked randomly up and down the hall. Red emergency lighting cast everything in shadows. From his right the scent of something acrid caught Garrus' nose, faint but definitely there.

"Why would they try to kill us?" Tali asked at last.

The human Spectre shook his head.

"No idea, but something is very wrong with this station."

"I already said that," Garrus complained.

"It bore repeating. Until we figure out what's going on we're officially considering this hostile territory."

"Maybe EDI and Twilight can come get us?" Kasumi suggested hopefully. "I don't think a bunch of miners are going to be able to stop a Cerberus built assassin robot and a brood warrior."

Shepard held up his omni-tool, showing the display that hovered over his wrist. Every communications link displayed red lines except one. Garrus opened his own and realized that the only one that wasn't being jammed was the micro-QEC that Legion had installed in their upgraded armor before the Battle of the Rannoch. Amazingly useful... if all three people linked to said communications network weren't in the exact same place.

"So much for that idea," the thief sighed.

"What's the plan, then? There have to be service crawlspaces. We can probably find our way back to the ground floor," Garrus said.

"Garneau still has to be the plan. He's our only real lead on Leviathan. I can only assume that he has something to do with what's going on here. We leave when we've got our answers," Shepard replied. "And since the locals aren't cooperating, then we have to do it the old fashioned way."

"Snooping, hacking, and ransacking?"

"The classics," his friend agreed, nodding down the corridor to their left. "As much as I hate the idea, we're going to need to split up. There's the risk that the workers here have more planned than just dropping us in an elevator. We can't give them time to try anything else."

"Aw, Shep... you know what always happens in the vids..." Kasumi objected.

"_Xeno-Zombies Six_ isn't exactly a good benchmark for decision making. If you're worried about vid clichés then just remind yourself that the vids don't usually include you having a hundred kilos of combat trained turian as back up. Tali is with me; you're with Garrus. Keep in contact over the three way link. Remember, we need information, but at this point we should assume anyone we meet is hostile."

Garrus nodded and drew his sidearm, double checking the magazine and clucking his tongue.

"I've got six extra thermals on me, plus a full one chambered. Half a dozen reloads isn't going to last long if these miners have actual firepower waiting somewhere."

Something glinted faintly in the dim light as it came sailing through the air towards him from Shepard's direction. The turian snatched it deftly out the air and turned it over to examine it. An Alliance standard issue combat knife. It had seen better days. The handle was worn and there were a few nicks in the blade but he could tell it still had plenty of use left in it.

"I guess you'd better get back to the basics then," Shepard said dryly.

"What about you?"

To answer his question a shimmering blade of blue energy sprang up around the armored human's fist, disappearing just as quickly when he opened his grip. Garrus chuckled and affixed the combat blade to one of the magnetic grips on his armor.

"Point taken. I'll comm as soon as we find something."

Shepard gave him a nod and turned to head in the opposite direction, pistol at his side and Tali right behind. He could see that the quarian wasn't any more relaxed about this situation than Kasumi was, but was trying not to show it. It didn't take long for them both to disappear into the darkness.

"I still don't like this," Kasumi said, gripping her Locust tightly as they began to advance.

"Nobody likes this. We just do it."

He pushed past the thief and moved farther down the corridor. After a few meters the corridor turned and they found themselves staring at a locked door. Garrus took up a position at one side and raised his pistol.

"Deal with the lock; I'll take care of anything on the other side when it opens."

Wordlessly the thief got to work, but after a few seconds she made a sound of displeasure.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"The security suite for this door isn't just too high-tech for a crappy mining facility... it's also custom. I'm not seeing any of the usual trademarks of one of the major software corps," Kasumi explained. "Give me just a minute."

The turian simply nodded and kept his focus on the doorway, resisting the urge to grind his mandibles. He couldn't place a talon on it, but something was just driving him crazy about their current situation. It could have been the oddness of it or the fact that they were cut off. He just didn't know. It was dark, it was cold, and it smelled strange. And he didn't like it.

"I'm sorry about... you know... on the _Rayya_..." Kasumi muttered long after her 'minute' had passed, not looking up from her omni-tool.

Her sudden change of subject was enough to distract him from the itch under his scales.

"Now? We're talking about this now?"

She shot him a brief look over her shoulder.

"You haven't stayed in the same room with me for more than five minutes since we left Rannoch."

"Look-"

"Got it!" she cried suddenly.

The door opened all at once. It was then that the smell hit him, flooding the corridor like a living thing that had been restrained only by the steel door. Pungent and bitter, layered over the scent of decay. He kept his weapon raised even as he heard Kasumi struggling not to retch. The smell hit him with a flood of memories.

He knew why he was on edge. It was a smell he'd had the misfortune of encountering before. It was the same smell as Doctor Saelon's lab.

"What is that smell?" the thief gasped, finally standing with her weapon in one hand and her free arm covering her nose.

"Nothing good."

He activated the light on his omni-tool and stepped inside carefully, sweeping the room with his weapon.

"Spirits..."

The room was filled not with mining equipment, but with massive tanks, medical scanners, and other assorted equipment that he'd only ever seen in Mordin's lab. When his light played across the nearest tank Garrus almost squeezed the trigger at the sight the rictus grin of a husk looked back at him. At the last second he paused. There was no telltale glow in its dead eyes or beneath its dull gray skin.

"This is... I don't know what this is," Kasumi said in a muffled voice. "What's going on here?"

"Something even worse than we thought," Garrus replied and quickly activated his comm. "Shepard, do you copy? What's your status?"

"We're nearing the medical bay. Tali found a record that showed Garneau was here. Something about an artifact. The last log indicated that he was injured and was relocated to their medbay," Shepard replied. "We actually ran across two more workers but... it was like we weren't even there."

"Shepard, you need to find Garneau fast. We just entered a heavily secured room and it's full of... things. I just saw a dead husk floating in a glass tank and it smells... it smells like I'm back on the _Fedele_ in here. Whatever these people are doing it isn't mining."

A gasp interrupted him and he saw Kasumi shaking her head.

"These aren't just dead Reaper soldiers, Garrus."

Following her line of vision he shone his light into another tank. She was right, it wasn't a husk or any other Reaper creation. It looked like it might have once been a turian, but that had been a long time ago. Its body was distended with thick muscles that made it hunch forward and the natural frill had become something closer to spines. And where a normal turian face would have been was something far more disturbing: a quartet of sightless eyes above freakishly long mandibles.

It wasn't alone. He could see dozens of tanks as the room appeared the stretch on for meters. Looking past the first row of horrors he saw other pieces of medical equipment and more tubes. Operating tables and consoles. The floor all around them appeared black and tacky.

"We need to leave."

"I didn't copy that?" Shepard interjected over the comm.

"I think we need to forget Garneau."

"We have a mission, Garrus."

"You're not seeing this Shepard. This isn't crazy miners or even indoctrinated scientists. I don't know what this is but it's very bad. If Garneau is here he's already dead. The things here-"

Shepard's voice cut him off.

"Hold position. I think we found him. Switching to speaker."

_"Doctor Garneau?"_

_"If you are looking for Dr. Garneau... you have found him."_

_"I'm Commander Shepard of the Alliance. Are you alright?"_

_"I am... fine. But I am... trapped here."_

He heard Tali break in, echoing the same thoughts going through his head. Garneau didn't sound like a man fearing for his life. He sounded like a man that was reading the financial section of the Citadel Weekly.

_"Doctor? You don't sound... well. We need to get you out of here and leave the station. Do you know where the artifact is you mentioned in your log?"_

_"Did I? Artifact. No."_

_"Doctor Garneau, I'm a Spectre. Classified doesn't apply to me and we don't have time for games. I need to know everything you've learned about Leviathan. To do that we need to secure the artifact and get out of here!"_

For a moment there was silence and then, oddly, static. Their communications were quantum pairs. Nothing should be able to interfere with their communications. A low, bone rattling hum filled his ears. When Garneau finally spoke it wasn't with a voice belonging to a man.

**_"Why do you pursue me?"_**

_"I don't think we're talking to Garneau..."_

Things began to fall into place in the turian's head. Puzzle pieces all lining up and painting a picture he didn't like. He could hear Shepard pushing on trying to complete their mission.

_"Leviathan? I came here because of you. You destroyed a Reaper! If we work together maybe we can stop them!"_

**_"No. You will not leave this place. You will not take what is mine. The darkness must not be breached."_**

_"If you help us, together we can bring the Reapers down! We can end this once and for all!"_

**_"You bring only death."_**

The line was filled with a thunderous roar and the sound of shattering glass before dissolving into static. All at once it felt as if the mining facility was moving, the deck plates beneath his feet vibrating. A claxon began to blare and the emergency lights flashed.

"Shepard? Shepard!"

He nothing heard for far too long, but finally a familiar voice spoke over the direct comms.

"We're okay," Tali said. "Garneau... Leviathan hit us with something. He activated one of the consoles here and then fled. I think he's heading for the lower levels and the artifact!"

"Can you catch him?"

"Yes, I think so but... oh keelah. Garrus... you and Kasumi need to run. You need to run now!"

The thief caught his eye, brows raised.

"What are you talking about, Tali?"

"Just go, Garrus!" Shepard broke in. "Whatever he did released all of the 'samples'. The area you're in isn't just listed as a lab. It's listed as a breeding facility!"

That was when he heard the 'tink'. A hard material striking glass, ever so slightly muffled. A slow and steady beat.

Tink.

Tink.

Tink.

He turned slowly with his weapon raised to find himself looking at the same warped creature he had examined before. But its eyes weren't lifeless anymore. Claws beat steadily again the inside of the tube, a growing spiderweb of cracks spreading across the surface.

"Go!" Shepard roared in his ear.

He didn't bother to explain, just grabbing Kasumi by the arm and dragging her with him as he headed back the direction they came. For a moment he could hear her gathering her breath to object, but when the liquid in the tubes around them began to froth and surge she fell silent.

"Can you re-lock this door?" Garrus asked as they reached the exit.

"I don't know, the software is a mess!"

"Try!"

The turian tried to pull the heavy sliding door closed manually, but it wouldn't budge. It seemed the system had two settings: wide open and securely locked. Taking up a shooter's stance he stood over Kasumi and kept his vision fixed forward. The sound of impacts against glass grew in his ears like a drum beat. Or the beating of a heart.

"What's happening?" Kasumi asked, taping frantically at her omni-tool. "I saw that thing moving! I thought they were dead!"

"They weren't dead. They were in some kind of stasis. And whatever Garneau did woke them all up!"

The sound of shattering glass and the splashing of fluid across the floor was the signal that they were out of time. At the edge of the shadows he watched as the 'dead' husk that they'd first passed pushed itself to its feet, staring around it until it fixated on him. The glowing blue lines that traced its entire body stood out starkly against the shadows. He drew a bead on its head and rested his finger on the trigger.

Before he could take the shot a blood curdling howl echoed through the corridor and beyond. The husk turned in the direction of the sound only to disappear under a mass of flesh. It screeched shrilly and attempted to claw at its attacker, but was silenced almost immediately by a brutal slash that removed most of the husk's face in a single swipe.

The thing that rested atop it was truly something out of a nightmare. Inert in its tube it had been disturbing, but in motion it was far worse. Its scaly hide glistened with the fluid from the tank, dripping onto the motionless form beneath it. Every movement was the efficient, effortless grace of a predator. A hungry one.

"Kasumi, we need this door closed now," he hissed.

"I'm working, I'm working..."

With the husk now dead the creature looked up and saw him for the first time. A wet, croaking sound emerged from its throat and its mandibles spread wide, dripping saliva. Behind them he caught his first glimpse of its maw, a ring of beak-like teeth that gnashed at the air. The spines that stood up on its back seemed to almost quiver in anticipation.

His first shot rang out at the same moment that it lunged. One of the beasts four eyes disappeared in an explosion of dark blood and it stumbled... only to push itself back to its feet. The blood curdling scream he had heard before came again, now answered by a dozens of echoes.

"Damn."

Garrus fired again. Each shot slow and steady. One round through its neck. Another tore through its upper arm. The next squarely center of mass. Even as black blood poured onto the deck plates it continued to advance, trying to lunge forward between each shot shrieking and roaring. Each attempt put it a few steps closer until a final shot caught it square between its remaining eyes. The thing shrieked a final time... but collapsed at last.

He cursed and reached for his belt, producing a flare and throwing it into the room. Half a magazine to kill one and that had been with deliberate shot placement. The turian's heart sank further when the flare sputtered to life, revealing a dozen sets of shining eyes in the shadows. Croaks and growls becoming a constant buzz as they grew closer.

"Forget the door," he said tightly, still not looking at the thief. "You need to go. If you head the same direction that Shepard and Tali went you might be able to catch them."

Kasumi ignored him, saying nothing. One of the sets of eyes moved closer and he responded immediately: feathering the trigger and sending a pair of shots in its direction. As soon as he did, though, he saw eyes on the opposite side of the room surge forward. He swung around as quickly as he could, emptying the rest of the magazine at the charging beast as they all rushed forward, bounding over shattered tubes and fallen lab equipment.

The door abruptly slammed shut in his face when the nearest beast made its leap towards him. On the other side he heard the heavy impact as the creature slammed into the metal. Blinking once the turian took a step back and sucked in a ragged breath.

"That was close," he muttered.

Something slammed into the door again. And again.

"I told you I would get it. You... don't think they can actually get through that, do you?" Kasumi asked.

A screech of rending metal seemed to answer her question. The door's control panel sparked and died.

"I don't think we should wait to find out," he said, ejecting the spent thermal from his pistol and slotting in a new one.

The pair sprinted back down the corridor, past the elevator and in the direction that Shepard and Tali had gone previously. Escape proved elusive, however. The first door was open, but at the next junction the door leading to the medbay was sealed. Kasumi shook her head as she examined the nearby console.

"No, no... damn! I can't get through. It's not just locked. Somehow the entire mechanism is just frozen!"

A tortured groan of metal giving way and a now familiar howl caused them both to turn and look in the direction they'd come. What were these things? Garrus stepped up next to her and tapped the console, bringing up a map. He rested a talon on the other door and drew a line.

"This way."

The thief shook her head.

"It's a dead end. It looks like these were crew quarters at some point. They're just built deeper into the asteroid. Once you get to the last one there's nowhere else left to go."

He tapped his comm again.

"Shepard, we can't follow you. The door is completely sealed and those... things they were breeding are loose."

"Dammit... can you get back to the surface?" the Spectre responded, breathing heavily. Clearly they were still in pursuit of Garneau.

"Negative. Shepard, these things are tearing through a steel door... the only way we could get up from here would be to climb the elevator shaft and something tells me we wouldn't last long."

"Options?"

Garrus sighed.

"I'm going to seal the crew compartments behind us. That's six heavy doors and leaves them only one way in. After that... we see how long the ammo holds out. If they're confined to this level at least maybe they won't try to follow you."

"I'm not going to leave you on this rock, Garrus. Lock it down and hold tight. The cavalry will come. I promise."

He motioned Kasumi towards the first door and shook his head, speaking quietly under his breath.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Boss."

* * *

><p>The roar of Shepard's Carnifex drowned out all other sound. Six booms, each evenly spaced. Each finding one of the husks directly center of mass. The synthetic monstrosities were resilient, but not enough to remain functional with a fist sized hole in their chests.<p>

"Why would Leviathan have husks?" she demanded, laying down fire as Shepard reloaded.

"Test subjects," the Spectre replied. "And apparently a security system in a pinch."

A dozen more of the lurching abominations poured out of the adjacent room, hissing and screeching as they charged. Both fired in unison now, dropping one husk after the other, but as soon as one fell another was scrambling over the corpse to reach for them. Her pistol bleated plaintively as it overheated, the thermal magazine ejecting automatically, but two husks were still bearing down on them.

"Shepard!"

Her concern was unwarranted. The husk in the rear was abruptly snatched into the air by biotic energy before being slammed into the deck plating with a sickening crunch while the bestial howl of the first ended abruptly as Shepard manifested his biotic blade through its chest cavity.

"I haven't made it this far to be killed by some husks," he said coldly. "How many rounds do you have left?"

The quarian frowned, reloading her pistol and checking the ammo pouch at her hip.

"Two more reloads."

"Here."

Shepard holstered his pistol and pulled a bundle of thermal clips from his armor, tossing them to her.

"And what does that leave you with?" she asked pointedly.

"The fresh magazine I just loaded and plenty of biotics. Let's move before more of these damn things show up."

The rooms that they passed through all looked similar. Utilitarian, with large banks of computers and holographic displays. Physical paperwork was scattered everywhere as if the residents cared for nothing but their research. Tali was coming to realize that was exactly the case to a degree that even the most obsessive salarian wouldn't strive for.

"Oh no..." she muttered as they entered the next corridor.

Three bodies lay strewn across the floor with their throats torn out, blood pooling around them. Other than the arterial spray from what could only have been the claws of husks there didn't seem to be any other disturbance. She shook her head.

"It looks like they didn't even try to run..."

"I don't think they did," Shepard said quietly. "I think whatever hold this thing has on them is so complete that everything is just gone. Even instinct."

They pushed ahead. Garneau, or whatever was controlling him, had done everything possible to slow them. Doors were locked. Husks seem to emerge from every lab. The few times they saw a living person that had managed to be located somewhere secure, locked in a lab or examine room, there was no spark of recognition. Emotionless eyes simply followed the pair's progress until they passed out of sight.

"I think I know where he's going," she said finally, managing to access a terminal that hadn't been completely locked out. "The last mine shaft that was drilled in the asteroid. Keelah... ten years ago. It shows it was only worked for a week and then sealed. That must have been where they found the artifact in the first place."

"And where this all began," he agreed. "Come on."

He slammed his fist against the door release and stalked forward, Tali following behind. She could see the stiffness in his movements with every step. Some of it was fatigue, she knew. He had been lashing out with his biotics constantly for almost an hour. The quarians didn't have many biotics but Kaidan had once told her that the average Alliance biotic soldier was treated like a heavy weapon. They were only meant to operate a peak efficiency for a short time.

But there was a tightness in his voice as well that went beyond fatigue. Their mission had been to find Leviathan, a weapon or an individual that could help defeat the Reapers. What they were seeing, though, was beginning to make her wonder if what they were searching for was any better than what they were fighting. She knew the same thoughts were going through Shepard's mind.

They found the workers' killers in the next hallway, a trio of husks each covered in blood. Shepard apparently wasn't interested in caution any longer, simply wading into their midst and dispatching each with a cold brutality before she could even fire a shot.

"John, you have to slow down!" she urged. "If you just keep charging in you're going to burn yourself out!"

"This only ends when we find Garneau. That artifact is the only explanation for our loss of comms and until we can contact the Normandy we're on our own... and so are Garrus and Kasumi."

She didn't object again.

* * *

><p>"I'm out!" Kasumi yelled.<p>

Her Locust traced a line across the charging creature's chest, causing it to tumble forwards and slide across the floor. A last gasp before the weapon hissed and ejected a smoldering magazine. Another creature jammed its head through the opening in the door and hissed, catching the last two rounds in from Garrus' magazine straight to the head for its troubles.

Four doors down. The first had held for quite a while as the beasts slammed into it, tore at it with their claws, and howled in fury. Eventually they had simply battered it until it was knocked from its track and pushed aside. With each retreat the doors fell faster. The things were learning. Their attacks had become targeted, tearing away at the edges until they could begin to warp and peel away the steel to make an opening.

Once they had that opening they were relentless. They had tried to time their reloads precisely, alternating fire to create a steady barrage. By the third door the things had wised up to that tactic as well, trying to draw their fire. Garrus' left side was stained with black ichor after one had slipped past their guard and charged. Kasumi had gotten a few shots in but it had managed to close the distance. The only reason he was still alive could be attributed to the blade that Shepard had handed him, now buried in the skull of the dead monster at this feet.

"Fall back!" he ordered.

Wordlessly the thief did as he said, backpedaling until she reached the next door. Garrus followed after yanking the combat knife free from the dead beast, only to stop at the threshold. He reached into his belt and produced a triangular device. A simple button press activated the proximity mine's triggered delay and the universal adhesive on its back. He slapped it at the edge of the door frame and stepped inside. The moment he crossed the threshold Kasumi slammed the door shut.

"Keep going," Garrus said, gesturing towards the other end of the room. "We don't have the ammo to make a stand here too."

"An undefended door isn't going to slow them down much."

He shrugged.

"Maybe not, but they're not the only ones that can learn. They've been adapting, probing our defenses. We just gave them two new variables to deal with. It should at least buy us a little time."

"An empty room is a variable?" Kasumi asked skeptically.

There was a loud boom and howls of pain from the other side of the locked door, causing the turian to crack a dark smile.

"An empty room immediately after their first introduction to proximity mines."

The final room looked just like the previous ones. Bunks and footlockers in various states of disarray. He made a quick inspection out of forced optimism while Kasumi locked down the last door, but turned up nothing of use. Pads, clothes, various personal items. It had been too much to hope that some paranoid miner had stashed a shotgun and a few boxes of thermal clips.

"Don't suppose you have any more of those?" Kasumi asked after she finished.

"No, the only reason I had that one is because it was still with my gear from the last mission," he said, shaking his head forlornly. "When Shepard said sidearms only I didn't think to restock. Amateur mistake."

"Shepard didn't see this coming either. It's not your fault. What do we do now?"

He stared at the closed door for a few long moments and sighed.

"I don't have anything else. We've killed what? At least a dozen of them but they just keep coming. There could easily have been fifty, sixty tanks in that room. If my estimates are right we've got maybe... fifteen minutes before they make it through the door I mined. Then they'll go to work on this one."

"And then it's over."

"I'm sorry, Kasumi."

He took a seat on one of the bunks, resting his pistol on the mattress next to him. The darkest part of his mind wondered if he shouldn't save a round or two. He had seen what the creatures were capable of. Whenever they'd brought one down the others had turned on its corpse and reduced it to scraps of flesh in moments. As an afterthought he reached over and disabled to comm link on his omni-tool. The last thing Shepard needed to hear was their final moments.

"Like I said... Shepard didn't see it coming either. There was no way anyone could have seen... you know... all this. Not unless they were insane."

The turian laughed bitterly.

"Not for that. I'm sorry for what I said on the _Rayya_. I asked you to stay... maybe if I hadn't you wouldn't be here. You could have left with Miranda and the others."

When no immediate reply came Garrus looked up to see Kasumi studying him. After a long silence she pushed back her hood, dark hair spilling free. He watched curiously as she pulled something from one of the lockers, a towel, and approached him. Before he could object she knelt and began to wipe away the dark blood that stained his arm.

"The two of you are entirely too alike to be different species, do you know that?" she asked out of the blue.

"You mean Shepard?"

"Who else? You're both determined to take responsibility for everything. You asked me to stay. I'm the one that chose to do it."

"It doesn't change the fact that if I hadn't you might not be here," he pointed out, not even trying to fight it when she gripped his arm to clean the ichor from his talons.

"I might have never met Keiji if I hadn't taken a job to steal a certain painting. Then I would never have gone to Cerberus trying to find his grey box. Never have met Shepard, Tali, you..." she trailed off for a moment and smiled sadly. "So you're right: things might have turned out differently. But I don't know if they would have been better."

"But this..." he gritted his teeth. "You don't deserve this."

"No one deserves to die. But that's also one of the things I figured out after what you told me on the Rayya. Everyone dies. I don't want to, not now... not with so much left to do. But at least if I do I'll know it meant something."

Garrus stared at the petite human meticulously cleansing each trace of blood from him, the clothing in her hands used with the same efficiency as if he was one of her hacking programs or a particularly complex lock. She wasn't looking at him directly, but he could see the hint of tears in her eyes. Oddly those bothered him more than the things clawing at the door.

"Kasumi..." he began, reaching down to brush the side of her face.

She immediately sucked in a ragged breath and spoke.

"It's okay, big guy. You don't have to humor me..."

"I'm not 'humoring' anything," Garrus said firmly, taking hold of her wrist with his now spotless opposite hand. "I wasn't lying when I said I trust you with my life."

"There's-"

He cut her off with a low growl.

"Not finished. I... don't know how to... deal with people really, Kasumi. For most of my life I've treated everyone as either a suspect or a superior. Even Shepard was a mentor before he was a friend. I wanted so badly to be just like him. What I'm trying to say is... you're one of the few people I've ever met that makes me feel like... like I'm worth more than just what position I hold or the job I do. And the one person who lets me forget all the things I've seen, even for a little while."

There were actual tears in the thief's eyes now, causing Garrus's mind to spin. He was stumbling in the dark trying to find a torch, confidence swiftly abandoning him. He was trying to form the right words and all he was doing was making her cry more. How was it he could command a battlefield but couldn't manage to string a sentence together correctly outside of one?

"I'm... sorry?" he stammered. "Ah... don't cry?"

Kasumi laughed and wiped her eyes.

"You should know by now that humans cry for all kinds of reasons."

"I know but I still haven't figured out how to tell the difference. What I'm trying to say is that you're not the only one that... reconsidered things after the _Rayya_. I've never been one of those turians that was... ah... into humans..."

He kept his talons against the side of her face when Kasumi tried to turn away, continuing to speak quietly.

"But this isn't about humans and turians. This is about just one woman that happens to be human. And if she's willing to put up with one scarred turian..."

Kasumi was a blur of motion and for the second time in his life he felt human lips pressed against his own. This time he was a little more prepared, however, and appreciated the experience far more. Human lips were by far softer than those of his kind and so very dexterous.

A few seconds passed before she pulled back and blinked, smiling sheepishly.

"Sorry, I just kind of thought about the fact that turians probably don't do much kissing. And for the record... she is. Very willing."

A low chuckle escaped his lips.

"I don't know why, but I won't complain. I just wish I had figured it out earlier..."

As if to punctuate his regret, a resounding thud against the door caused them both to jump. A menacing howl filled the room outside. The predators had found their prey. He felt the shiver that passed through Kasumi from the hand against her cheek. Slowly she rose from the floor and pulled herself into his lap, placing her weapon on the bed on the opposite side of his.

"If life on the Normandy has taught me anything it's that every moment is precious."

The thief rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. To his surprise it seemed to drown out the bays and howls from outside. Garrus closed his eyes and followed her advice. He enjoyed the moment.

* * *

><p>"Is it dead?" Shepard asked.<p>

"Very, Shepard," EDI confirmed. "Very few species in the galaxy are capable of surviving temperatures in excess of a thousand degrees Celsius and massive cranial trauma."

His lips curled in a snarl and he hefted the flamethrower in his grip.

"Good. Let's get to work."

The entire mission had become a disaster. Garneau had been dead before they arrived and the man that had claimed his name had killed himself to destroy the artifact that Leviathan had been so desperate to protect. The destruction had cleared up communications, but now he couldn't raise Garrus.

He wasn't outgunned and outnumbered anymore, though, as the first of the creatures they had encountered had quickly learned. Its attempted ambush had failed when Shepard had bathed the thing with liquid fire that was followed up by a point-blank shot to the head from the Claymore in EDI's grip. The Spectre didn't know what they were, they looked like some kind of spined, insectile gorilla, but he knew they weren't invincible.

"We are approaching the crew quarters. I am detecting a large number of unknown biosigns," the AI cautioned.

Gore stained deck plating made a path through the crew quarters. The damaged doors, shredded from the creatures attack were easily forced wide open with the proper application of biotics.

_It had no song, no name. They are only blackness,_ Twilight sang into his mind. _And they have detected our presence. They come._

All at once a swarm of the mutated beasts poured through the mangled doorway ahead. But here, they were not the hunters, they were the hunted. Sheets of flame washed over the center of the pack while a blast from EDI's shotgun nearly bisected one of the remainder. Tali's geth-made plasma shotgun was equally effective at piercing their thick hides.

The few that passed through the firestorm quickly found another brutal revelation: there was always a bigger predator. Half a ton of rachni brood warrior reaped a deadly harvest, tearing into the creatures with the wicked claws at the end of its pedipalps and shattering bone with well-placed biotic fields. It felt like forever, but in truth the slaughter barely lasted minutes.

"Are we clear?" Shepard barked.

_The songless things are no more,_ the rachni assured him.

Stepping over the charred corpses Shepard approached the final door. Deep rents covered the metal and even the panels along the walls had been torn free in the fury of the beasts. He tightened his grip on the flamethrower and swallowed against the tightness in his throat.

"Twilight? The door."

A biotic field wrapped around the door and yanked it open with raw force against the protests of its ruined mechanisms. Without hesitation he stepped through the smoke left behind, flamethrower primed.

"Garrus?" he yelled.

His flashlight cut through the smoke to reveal a pair of figures. Shepard felt a smile cross his lips. Leaning against the back wall with one hand around Kasumi's shoulders and his pistol in the other was Garrus.

"Took you long enough, Boss."

The Spectre shrugged and gestured with the flamethrower.

"You know me. I like to make an entrance."

Garrus raised his pistol in a lazy salute.

"Was one of your better ones, I'll give you that. Now... can we get the fuck off this spirits-forsaken rock?"

* * *

><p>Many hours later Shepard sat down at the conference table. Garrus, Kasumi, and Tali were all looking more than a little shell-shocked. He couldn't blame them. The implications of what they'd found were disturbing. Dangerous, even. But they also showed just how powerful Leviathan was.<p>

"You're telling me this... thing, whatever it is, just turned a mining colony into its own research facility with no one the wiser?" Garrus asked.

"Most of the data was destroyed when it used its proxy to initiate the fail-safe... but from what we were able to recover? Yes," he confirmed. "There's data here on long term starvation rates after a collapse of the relay network. Research on techno-organic viruses... even data on how to grow organic hunter-killers from recombinant DNA."

The Spectre saw Kasumi shudder.

"We saw the results of that research first hand."

"But why? Maybe it was planning on building some kind of army?" Tali theorized. "If so how was it planning to do it? The facilities on Mahavid weren't big enough for anything large scale."

"You are correct, Tali'Zorah, that the entity known as Leviathan was attempting to design an army," EDI said as an image appeared over the table. "But it never intended to actually create that army. Not in this cycle at least."

Garrus leaned forward.

"This cycle?"

The AI's physical avatar nodded.

"From the recovered data we have found dozens of different research branches, almost all completely unrelated save for the fact that they are directed against a single target: the Reapers. Organic weapons to destroy their ground forces. Viruses to wipe out large scale populations to prevent harvesting. Devices to expand the power of the artifact like the one used to control the miners on Mahavid. It does not appear this is the first such experiment. Some of the information references races uncatalogued in any known database."

"This thing was literally just using us as guinea pigs to test theories," Shepard said. "Which means that whatever it is, it's not just powerful, it's old. Old enough that it can wait thousands and thousands of years to achieve its goals."

There was an uncomfortable silence around the room.

"Are we sure we actually want to find this thing?" Tali asked finally.

Shepard sighed.

"I don't think we have a choice. One way or the other we're going to have to face the things waiting in the darkness."

* * *

><p><em>And they said I was dead... nope! Still kicking. This was a long gap in updates and for that I do apologize!<em>

_But this time there's good news to accompany the update! Due to illness, travel, and other difficulties I didn't always have the time or concentration to write. In that down time, however, I was able to do something else... check out my profile page or direct your browsers to www DOT wulversden DOT com_

_That's right, I have a website now. There you'll find not only the current Razor's Edge chapter but the first 2/3rds (and counting!) of the original Razor's Edge for your viewing pleasure. Edited and cleaned up by excellent chassan1! As I get the chapters cleaned up I will continue to update them on the website and I'll be updating Requiem in the same fashion._

_The fun doesn't stop there, however, as the website also includes forums. Ever wanted to ask a question beyond the usual review? Drop in and start a thread. Others might have had the same question!_

_As always thank you all for your readership, support, and reviews!_


	30. Chapter 29: Endure

Chapter 29: Endure

As a rule Miranda Lawson never lost her composure. But sometimes she did raise her voice.

"What in the _hell_ are you doing here?"

Jack's smile was positively vicious as she crossed her arms and leaned against the bulkhead.

"Nobody told me it was a private party, ice princess. Shepard's the one that asked me to come along."

The _Natarius'__s_ briefing room wasn't quite as spacious as the one aboard the Normandy and it was definitely at capacity. Miranda was flanked by Vega and the captain of the _Natarius_, a female turian named Krosia Centus; while Ashley, Liara, and Javik had taken up seats around the room. Sings-Fury occupied one corner of the room, looking cramped between the table and wall.

The former Cerberus agent tried to prepare for every eventuality. Her dedication to that level of preparedness had saved her life and the lives of others. It wasn't a perfect skill, though. She hadn't been prepared for the pair that stood at the opposite end of the room. The smug look on Jack's face only made it worse.

"Ah, don't get yer knickers in a goddam twist," Zaeed said, kicking his feet up on the table.

Centus snapped her talons against one another and hissed.

"Mr. Massani, I would request that you do not burn your foul smelling intoxicant on my ship."

Zaeed pulled the smoldering cigar from his mouth and looked at it as if not comprehending the problem. The turian's icy gaze finally made him relent, however, and he snubbed the end out on his hand with a grunt.

"I don't think she's happy to see us, old man," Jack chuckled.

"You are a violent, reckless, unstable criminal. Why would I be happy to see you?" Miranda asked in exasperation. "At least Zaeed has a reputation for reliability."

Whatever sarcastic reply Jack was preparing was cut off by another loud hiss from Captain Centus, accompanied by something akin to a high pitched chirp that drew all eyes to the turian. Centus regained her composure quickly and jabbed a talon at the conference table. Sitting in the middle of it was a rachni worker.

"Praetor Shepard informed me that we would be taking on a rachni brood warrior. I was not made aware of… additional passengers."

"I wasn't informed either, I realize this is all quite unorthodox, Captain," Miranda apologized, suppressing a small smirk.

Turians were big on order and rules. Most of them were at least. The former Cerberus agent could think of at least one that definitely went against the grain, but in her experience Garrus Vakarian was the exception that proved the rule. Centus must have been a good commander to have taken command of one of the Hierarchy's most advanced frigates, but she was no Garrus.

_Do not fear, __P__redator-__S__inger , they sing only songs of help and companionship. Brood warriors are the vanguard of the hive__,__ but we do not comprehend the solitude-songs of your kind. We are never alone._

Miranda could see the captain's mandibles twitch when Sings-Fury spoke into the minds of those assembled. Those that had been aboard the Normandy recently had already become used to the rachni's unique method of communication, but it was a shock to most. Some small part of her was pleased when she noticed that Jack had to try and hide her jump of surprise at the mental communication.

"I… see. Then make sure that they do not surprise any of my crew. I wouldn't want to start a diplomatic incident with the rachni because a tech crushed one by accident," Centus replied tightly.

_We will keep the singers of work songs close,_ Fury promised.

The worker skittered across the table, hearing a call no one else could. While the turian captain and Jack both followed the small creature's movement intently Zaeed seemed completely unperturbed, merely arching one weathered brow as it streaked past. It made a single leap to reach the floor and then disappeared beneath the shelter of Fury's large carapace.

"This shit just keeps getting weirder," the convict muttered.

"You have no idea. I heard a rumor that someone actually let you teach _children_," Miranda replied. "I can only imagine the… quality education you provide."

"I taught those kids how to fight, how to survive. Exactly what they need to know. If you didn't notice we're in the middle of a war, Cheerleader!"

She could feel her teeth grinding as she prepared to respond, but Vega's accented tone interrupted Miranda's train of thought.

"I don't think fighting amongst ourselves is going to help, _chicas_. But if you're going to insist, at least give me time to get whatever the turian equivalent of jello is before you start!"

It was grating to admit but the young marine's ploy worked perfectly. She caught herself mirroring Jack's baleful stare in Vega's direction, completely losing steam on the diatribe she had been constructing in her head. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"You're right. Jack, if Shepard sent for you; both of you, then it was for a good reason. Did he explain our mission?" Miranda asked.

"Yep. Standard issue Shepard. Invade Omega, kick Cerberus's teeth in. Drag it through the goddamn relay into the galactic core. Nothing special," Zaeed nodded. "I'd have asked for more money if it had been something real hard."

"What the old man said," Jack agreed.

"I'm not old. I'm just experienced. 'Sides, the fuck'n prothean has a few thousand years on me."

The convict snorted loudly and Javik simply stared at the mercenary placidly. Miranda chose to ignore the exchange, instead continuing the initial briefing.

"It's a little more complicated than that, but you're correct. Shepard is focused on locating Leviathan and bringing whatever or whomever it is into the war on our side. That leaves us to secure Omega as the base of operations for the new System's Alliance."

Tapping her omni-tool Miranda summoned up a holo-image of the station. A secondary image showed nearly a dozen cruisers of various design, mostly turian and human. The standout among them was the asari frigate, its sleek lines that looked out of place among the hard edges of the other ships.

"We'll be rendezvousing with a small fleet in approximately sixteen hours. In addition to Hierarchy and Alliance soldiers we will also be meeting with none other than Aria T'Loak."

"Why?" Javik asked. "The asari is a criminal, one that has been deposed from the throne of her criminal empire. She serves no purpose."

Liara beat her to the punch before she could correct the prothean.

"It's not that simple. Aria is more than just a criminal. She has favors from dozens of asari matriarchs, mercenary companies… in addition my sources say that she has intelligence from within Omega . That's information that we need to successfully retake the station."

"It is still a significant risk. Her kind were always the first to turn to the Reapers seeking to forestall their own annihilation."

"I don't like anything I've heard about Aria," Ashley said grimly. "But I don't think she got to where she is by being stupid."

"That is also why this operation cannot wait for weeks. Once we join the rest of the fleet, our assault on Omega will have to commence within twenty four hours. The faster we move, the less chance that any indoctrinated agents can leak information to the Reapers," Miranda explained, gesturing towards the image. "Until we secure the station it's vulnerable. The geth have a small armada waiting just outside the system; once Omega is ours they will jump in and begin the relocation project."

"So we're not just taking over a giant space station and relocating it thousands of light-years. We're doing it on a deadline," Vega summed up for the room.

Miranda sighed and clasped her arms behind her back.

"Needless to say the risk is… extreme. Which is why Shepard told me to inform everyone that this mission is completely voluntary. If you want out then a shuttle will return you to the Citadel, no questions asked."

Jack's immediate response seemed to echo the feelings of the entire room.

"Fuck that."

* * *

><p>War was no stranger to Oleg Petrovsky. He had taken orders. Given orders. Killed men. Had others die in his arms. The hypersonic crack of mass accelerator fire and the thundering of explosions no longer quickened his blood as they had in his youth. Many of Cerberus's initial recruits into the Illusive Man's grand army had been eager to experience the thrill of combat. He knew war all too well for that.<p>

Petrovsky tapped the chessboard before him and watched as his holographic bishop disappeared, reappearing on C4. A formulaic opening move, but in the months since establishing control of Omega he had taken to baiting the VI opponent just to create some sort of challenge. A black pawn dematerialized and reappeared exactly where he'd expected. He sighed in frustration.

The crackle of the comm provided a brief respite from the monotony.

"General, citizens are attempting the breach the security field on level eight, sub-section three. Per your orders I am confirming before engaging."

"What are they doing?"

"Attempting to breach the security field," the soldier repeated blankly.

He sighed again and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"And how are they going about this, Lieutenant?"

"They appear to be throwing scrap metal at it, sir."

"And do you believe that pieces of scrap metal are actually capable of disabling or even damaging the security field?"

"No sir," his subordinate responded without hesitation.

"Then you have your answer, Lieutenant. Stand down. If you find something that poses an _actual_ threat then contact me for leave to engage."

He disconnected the transmission without even waiting for the other man's predictable 'yes sir' to come across the line. When the Illusive Man had promised him an actual army, not just a handful of operatives, Petrovsky had been skeptical. Cerberus's leader had delivered as promised, however, providing him with an entire battalion of soldiers in gleaming white and gold armor.

It had only been later that the veteran of the First Contact War had come to realize the problem with Cerberus's ready-made army. The Reaper technology that the Illusive Man had utilized to turn raw recruits into soldiers was nothing short of amazing. It created soldiers that were easily trained, physically resilient, and fanatically loyal, but obedience alone did not a great soldier make.

The 'drones', as Petrovsky had come to think of them, possessed no initiative. Once they had been men, but now there was no fire in the synthetic eyes hidden beneath the Cerberus issued helmets. In fact the only defining traits they seemed to possess after their initiation were their fanatical loyalty and an innate desire for combat. Hence why every so often he would get a call exactly like the one he had just terminated.

It made him wonder at times. The security fields were guarded by Cerberus soldiers, their bodies laced to the bone with cybernetics. On the other side lurked the things that the fields were meant to keep out. Caught in the middle, trapped on one side of the barricade or the other, were Omega's civilians. How many were left alive on the other side of those fields he couldn't be certain.

The general shook his head. He had his orders. Hold Omega at all costs. It was the gatekeeper to the Omega 4 relay and Cerberus' line to the greatest resource of raw materials and unknown technology in the known galaxy. The Illusive Man had made it clear that if they were to stop the Reapers and secure humanity's place in the galaxy, maintaining control of Omega was key.

He keyed in another move and eased back in his chair, eyes distant as he spoke to the empty room, quoting another revolutionary from Earth's history.

"I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy..."

* * *

><p>"I'm here to get my station back, Turian, not to follow your protocols."<p>

"You are here because you stated that you had vital information regarding Omega, Ms. T'lok," Captain Centus hissed and leaned across the table. "If it was my decision you would be in a cell where criminals belong!"

The asari smirked wickedly.

"Keep dreaming, bitch. I was granted diplomatic immunity by the Asari Republics."

"We were made aware of that," Victus interjected dryly, his holographic image being projected nearby. "And we don't have time to play politics. What do you know about Cerberus's defenses or weaknesses in the station?"

Aria leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up, shaking her head.

"Not so fast. I've got terms. Your entire mission objective seems to be to turn _my_ station into a staging ground for your war. I'm not helping you retake Omega just so a bunch of turians with sticks up their asses can occupy it instead."

"Our war, as you call it, is a war to preserve all life in this galaxy. You are not an exception to that," the Primarch growled.

"Wars end. I'm protecting what's mine. I want an agreement signed by you as Primarch of the Hierarchy that once Omega is secured stating that I will be named sole governor of Omega and the station will continue to act with autonomy. I'll let you use my station, but it's still mine… and you'll be just another set of customers."

Miranda had been watching the exchange with interest. She knew all about Aria's history, at least as much as anyone did. The asari's imperious demands were clearly getting under the plates of the heavily turian military presence that was supporting their offensive. Even with their staggering losses the Hierarchy still had over half its fleet functional. Earth could barely claim a third, which meant it fell to the turians to do the heavy lifting.

These were just the sort of conflicts that could tear fledgling alliances apart. Without intelligence from Aria any assault could be costly beyond reason. The Illusive Man would be counting on that to deter an attack. There was no doubt in Miranda's mind that he knew that a concerted attack would inevitably overwhelm any defense Cerberus could muster, but if he made the projected losses for such an attack high enough, that alone would deter any attempt.

"We are not going to be blackmailed by a-"

Cestus's mandibles were twitching in outrage but Miranda cut her off.

"We agree to your terms, Aria."

"We… what?" the female turian stammered.

"At least there's one intelligent person in the room," Aria said triumphantly. "You need me."

Victus remained silent but not everyone had the same self control. The former Cerberus operative could see that the _Natarius_'s captain was practically quivering in anger.

"You can't just hand over a station to this criminal bitch! A station that soldiers of the Hierarchy will die to secure!"

Cestus punctuated her statement by slamming a fist onto the table. Miranda merely crossed her arms over her chest and stared the turian down impassively.

"I can and I will. Those soldiers, turian _and_ human, are part of the New Systems Alliance… and _Praetor_ Shepard has given me his absolute authority in this operation," she replied. "He told me to secure Omega at any cost. That is exactly what I'm doing."

For a moment it looked as if the captain was going to continue to argue but that turian instinct to follow the chain of command reined her in. Cestus might not have been happy but just using Shepard's title had reminded her of her place, especially when her poorly concealed glance at Victus offered no support.

"Are we all aware of the pecking order now?" Aria asked.

"I've agreed to your terms. Now we need that information if we're going to succeed in taking back Omega. We don't have time for gloating anymore than we had for bickering," Miranda responded flatly.

The asari frowned when her bait was left untaken but nodded at last. In a moment her expression and manner changed completely, becoming all business. No more jabs or acidic comments. Just information, observations. Exactly what Miranda wanted.

"Getting information out of Omega wasn't easy, but one of my last contacts provided a final databurst."

Aria activated her omni-tool and sent a stream of information to the main display.

"The key to securing Omega is the main command and control. We take that, we have absolute control of Omega and all her systems. It won't be as easy. To start with there are these…"

"Spirits…"

"_Dios mio..._" Vega muttered, speaking up for the first time.

"Six heavy thanix turrets tied to a main targeting computer, fast enough to track a frigate. More than enough firepower to core a cruiser with a direct hit."

She watched Aria indulge in another self-satisfied smile.

"And it just gets worse from there."

* * *

><p>Despite hours of discussion and review, in the end they settled on a relatively simple plan. The bulk of the fleet would engage the picket line of Cerberus ships blockading Omega while trying to remain at the extreme ranges of the station's defensive cannons. Their goal was simply to tie up Cerberus' mobile space assets.<p>

A second wave would strike from directly 'above' the station. What was left of the asteroid made a nearly impenetrable shield, but it also left a blind spot not covered by the emplaced weapons. This second squadron would be entirely comprised of troop transports, combat shuttles, and a handful of corvettes and fighters.

The smaller, agile ships could navigate the dense asteroid field and hopefully use their close proximity to the station to avoid enemy fire once they were finally forced to enter the threat range of the heavy guns. Fighter cover would make the first attack run, each ship armed with a single disruption torpedo. An initial volley would disable the station's kinetic barriers long enough to facilitate a landing.

"Hold on! We're going in!" the pilot of their shuttle barked.

The already jarring ride through the asteroids became even more frantic as space outside the viewports flooded with sudden light. Miranda felt the harness press into her body like a stone. She caught a brief glimpse of a massive lance of crimson streaking outwards from the station. One of the thanix weapons Cerberus had installed. A much greater danger to their ship, however, was the cloud of rapid-fire mass accelerator fire that filled the space around them.

"Thought you said they just installed those big laser cannon things?" Jack growled at Aria, gripping her own harness with white knuckles.

"Omega was never completely defenseless... they must have upgraded the point defense batteries as well!" the asari shot back. "This is why I'm never the first one through a door!"

As if to emphasize her point fire blossomed from one of the other shuttles nearby as it was raked with accelerator rounds. The vessel struggled to hold together, but an explosion rocked it a second later, sending it spinning away, disintegrating piece by piece. Miranda's comm crackled to life.

"Spearhead, this is _Natarius_. We've engaged the Cerberus fleet, but your assault wing is taking heavy losses. Twenty-one percent of assault wing vessels are down. Recommend abort boarding run!"

"Negative, _Natarius_. We won't get another chance at this," Miranda said. "Keep those ships engaged!"

One of the corvettes returned fire with a matched pair of light naval mass accelerators. Fighters streaked by and launched a volley of torpedoes. Unable to determine their success or failure all Miranda could do was wait, strapped into a tiny metal box in a sea of fire and hoping that they would make it to their target. It was not a feeling that she relished.

"Entry point, two klicks! We're going to be coming in fast!"

The only one in the shuttle that didn't seem particularly fazed was Zaeed. He held a battered looking rifle in his hands, turning it over in his hands and actually smiling even while the shuttle felt as if it would shake apart around them. The incongruity of it apparently too much for Jack to leave alone in her agitated state.

"What the fuck is it with you and that rifle, old man? We're about to get blown up and you're not evening paying attention!"

"It's not just any goddamn rifle, this is _Jessie_. Show some respect!"

"That piece of shit that was always sitting on your workbench on the Normandy? You brought a gun that doesn't even work on a mission?"

"Mr. Massani is a professional; I'm certain that he wouldn't bring a non-functional rifle into combat…" Miranda said, continuing after a moment of silence from the mercenary. "You… wouldn't, correct?"

"Of course not! Got an offer from Shepard to join up on this mission... best damn deal I ever made. Get to blow the hell out of a bunch of Cerberus bastards and that magical goddamn quarian of his sent the last part I needed to fix Jessie. Custom job. Now the old girl is easier than a two credit slag!"

Aria looked more than a little incredulous.

"You took a suicide mission because Shepard's suit rat fixed your gun ? I expected more from the infamous Zaeed Massani."

"Hey, keep your trap shut about the fishbowl. She's alright," Jack snapped at T'lok.

"Aye, goddamn saint that girl is," Zaeed agreed, fixing the asari with a glare from his good eye.

Aria merely rolled her eyes, but Miranda noticed that she didn't make any attempts to argue. It was an interesting exchange to watch, almost enough to take her mind off the way that her jaw clenched with every vibration that ran through the shuttle. When the Illusive Man had first given her the dossiers for Shepard's team there had been a spirited argument over the inclusion of Jack. Zaeed had been easy: his reputation was impeccable. But the biotic convict had been too much of a loose cannon. She had insisted that her psychotic tendencies and hatred of Cerberus would end in disaster.

A year later and Miranda was listening to that same convict defend a quarian girl's honor against an asari crimelord, backed up by a grizzled mercenary. All while they were barreling headlong into an assault against the very organization that had brought them all together and protected her for years on end.

"Shit!"

The sound of panic and tearing metal ended any contemplation. In an instant the ship was filled with smoke and the blare of system warnings. Their pilot sounded as if he couldn't decide whether to curse or pray. A second later the ship stopped with bone jarring abruptness, driving the harness into Miranda's shoulders.

"Status?" she asked, coughing.

"Nobody's dead, Ice Princess," Jack replied immediately. "That the best landing you could manage, jackass?"

"Carmichael…"

"Huh?"

The pilot pulled himself free of his harness and stuck his head into the passenger compartment.

"Lieutenant Carmichael. You know... the one that landed this busted ship without killing anyone? That's me. If you don't like it then you can give it a try next time."

"Ha… well at least there's someone in the Alliance other than my bunch of kids that still has a pair. You're alright, Carmichael."

"Enough with the goddamn bonding, where the fuck are we?" Zaeed demanded.

Rather than answer his question immediately Aria punched the door controls. There was a labored hiss and then a low groan, but the door finally slid open. The asari exited the ship with a small push of biotic power and touched down a few feet away, drawing her pistol as she looked around.

"About seven decks off course," Aria said at last, a sour look on her face. "These are the old mining bays… barely ever used anymore. This whole area used to be crawling with vorcha."

The rest of the team clambered out of the damaged shuttle and took up a rough defensive position. It was certainly Omega. The only real illumination came from the dull orange glow of ancient overhead backup lights. The air itself was thick and dank. Clearly either there had been damage during the assault… or more likely Aria had simply seen no reason to maintain the atmosphere scrubbers on this level considering it was infested with vorcha.

"This is Spearhead to all units. Does anyone copy?" Miranda asked over the taskforce's frequency.

Long moments passed. Finally a response came, static filled but still intelligible.

"Spear Three, copy. Getting major interference on comms."

"Cerberus," Aria interjected. "Disrupt short range comms to keep anyone from organizing a resistance movement. Most tech on Omega would be completely useless if military hardware is getting this much interference."

Miranda nodded at the asari and turned her attention back to her comm.

"Understood, Spear Three. What is your status? Have you made contact with any of the other teams?"

"We are securing our LZ," the soldier replied. "Shuttle is damaged but space-worthy. One injured but still mobile: broken wrist. Made brief contact with Spear Four but lost them in all the static. They were on level 19."

Not good. Nineteen was another five decks below them. Miranda silently cursed. Her attempt at minimizing casualties had left them scattered and woefully under-strength. Maybe she had tried to think too much like Shepard, too involved. Too personal. The Miranda Lawson that had put Commander Shepard back together for Cerberus wouldn't have made the same mistake. She would have chosen the method that was most likely to succeed, regardless of the potential casualties.

They held position for another ten minutes, trying to contact other elements of the strike force. Their own shuttle had been one of the newest Kodiak class shuttles, smaller and more agile than the assault shuttles being used by the other teams. Even with that agility they had still been nearly killed. Two more teams finally checked in.

Spear One and Spear Seven had both made it with minimal casualties but suffered from the same problem. Seven was mostly on target, only one deck below the main docking ring. Spear One, on the other hand, was only a deck away from where Four had set down. In the end, she ordered One to locate Four and secure the lower levels. If all else failed they would at least have somewhere to fall back to.

"So what's the plan?" Zaeed asked, hefting his rifle.

"A dozen strike teams and we've been able to contact three of them and confirm that Spear Four at least made it onto the station. The others could have been shot down or were far enough off course that we can't raise them on comms," she replied. "Even if we link up with Spears Seven and Three… we're looking at maybe a single platoon to go up against whatever forces Cerberus has on station."

Jack cracked her knuckles and grinned wolfishly.

"Well, I'm game."

"I'm not," Aria countered. "I didn't come here to reclaim Omega only to get shot. I know Omega better than anyone. Oleg and the command center is the key. We make it there and we can end this."

"What are you suggesting?" Miranda asked.

"Omega is a maze. Petrovsky can't have covered every single passageway. Even if he did, it would mean spreading himself thin. I get us through and we cut the head off the snake."

"It's the best we can do…" she agreed, contacting the other strike force elements. "Spear Seven, Spear Three, this is Spearhead. Operation has changed. You need to locate Cerberus strong points and engage them. I need you to keep Cerberus's attention."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

"Spear Seven, copy that."

"Three birds and a flyboy… I've seen worse. Course I've seen better too," Zaeed said with a grunt.

"Three biotics of our power should be a considerable force multiplier," she assured the man.

"Bloody well hope so. What about the kid?"

Aria looked at the pilot and gave a sultry laugh.

"Everyone has to pop their cherry some time. Wouldn't be the first time someone did it on Omega."

"I can handle myself," Carmichael promised, studiously not looking at Aria as he pulled on the combat armor that he had retrieved from the shuttle.

The aged mercenary jabbed a finger at the younger man.

"We'll see about that. You've got my six, boy. Need someone to keep their shit together while the biotic bitches do their thing. Remember all that crap they taught you in basic training and keep your damn head down, clear?"

Carmichael pulled on his helmet and hefted a standard issue assault rifle, nodding.

"Yes, sir."

"Let's move," Miranda ordered.

Omega didn't improve as they continued through the tunnels and corridors. It was only after they had been advancing carefully for nearly fifteen minutes without encountering resistance that she began to worry. The station was massive but everything they knew about Cerberus strength and disposition suggested they should have encountered initial resistance only minutes after landing.

She actually knew Oleg Petrovsky by reputation. While the two had never met in person, her position as the Illusive Man's right hand for so long gave her a much broader picture of Cerberus's operations than most. Before joining Cerberus he had been a candidate for the admiralty, acknowledged as an excellent tactician and strategist. He had objected stridently to the Council's inaction during the Eden Prime War and had eventually resigned his commission. The paperwork had barely been processed before Cerberus had made contact.

So she knew about this personal beliefs, his tactical acumen, his nearly obsessive need to plan for even wildly unlikely variables. Which made their current undisturbed advance all the more worrying. A man with Petrovsky's experience did not simply forget to send soldiers to contain a security breach. Clearly she wasn't alone in her concerns either.

"Too damned easy," Zaeed muttered.

"Isn't that a good thing?" the pilot asked.

Jack snorted loudly.

"Fuck no. Easy just means someone is setting you up to get boned."

"Goddamn right. Life ain't supposed to be easy, Kid. If it's easy you're doing something wrong. Especially when you're trying to kill a bunch of other bastards," Zaeed explained. "They're not fighting tooth and bloody nail to keep you out means they're not afraid of you. That means they know something you don't."

"Aria?" Miranda asked.

They came to a heavy door that gave a mournful tone and shuddered once rather than opening. The asari cursed and shrugged.

"They're both right. Petrovsky played the game perfectly before. He'll have a plan. Come on, there's an access shaft over here. We can bypass this corridor by going through the maintenance area."

"Clear the top with a gun in your hand, Kid, and then cover the approach," Zaeed ordered, shoving the pilot towards the nearby ladder.

In spite of the mercenary's justified paranoia there was no ambush waiting at the top of the ladder. They found themselves moving through a dimly lit area filled with the rarely seen guts of Omega: oxygen scrubbers, cooling units, and power converters. Most were humming along well enough, though a few popped and sputtered fitfully.

This steady drone of background noise made her dismiss the first time she heard the sound: a low, vibrating groan. It could easily have been a piece of machinery surrendering to years of poor maintenance. Then the sound came again, from a different direction and accompanied by the sound of a heavy impact on the metal floor. Almost simultaneously, the three biotics were wreathed in an azure glow, while Zaeed's rifle was already trained in the direction of the sound.

The mercenary flicked his omni-tool's directed illumination feature, sending a beam of light into the darkness. Now alerted, Miranda could hear the thump of heavy footsteps. A second later something lumbered into view, a faint glow emanating from the creature's face and other parts of its body. It was as tall as a man, but hunched over with a bulbous head and swaying gait. Rather than a mouth it seemed to have a mass of cords or tentacles that reached to its chest.

"What the fuck is that?" Jack asked.

The thing began to advance towards them steadily, letting Miranda see more details. Her eyes widened. She had seen this before or at least something like it. The blue lines that ran beneath its skin, the glow of its eyes. Reaper technology, just like the experiments they had carried out on the first husks they had found.

"Open fire!" Aria yelled even before Miranda could issue the same order.

Zaeed didn't hesitate for a second, unleashing a long burst from his favorite rifle that caught the creature directly in its center of mass. It staggered under the impact and dark, purplish ichor oozed from the wounds… but it didn't fall. Instead it lashed out with one clawed hand to send a burst of raw biotic force streaking towards them. The combined efforts of the three biotics stopped the blast cold as they instinctively poured power into a barrier in front of them.

"Shoot the goddamn thing!" the mercenary roared at Carmichael.

They dropped the barrier and both men opened up this time, accelerator rounds hitting the creature with meaty thumps. It attempted to take another step forward but finally collapsed under the weight of fire directed towards it, slumping forward into a pool of its own blood.

"We need to get out of here _now_!" Aria hissed.

"You knew what that thing was!" the former Cerberus operative snapped, whirling on Aria with flashing eyes. "Reaper technology. It looked like some kind of husk… and you didn't think to mention it before we landed on Omega?"

"Petrovsky called them 'adjutants', said they were some experiment of yours that got out of control. A swarm of the things attacked Omega during the initial invasion… which is how Petrovsky got his foothold. By the time I realized that Cerberus had engineered the whole thing it was too late!"

The groaning sound filled their ears again, ending any further discussion. Carmichael spun in the direction it had come from, but even as he did more echoed around them. There were more, either laying in wait the entire time or having been drawn by the sound of weapons fire.

"These things might look unwieldy by they get up to speed fast!" the asari said. "We need to move!"

As much as she wanted to extract more information about the threat from Aria, along with a valid reason to have withheld that information, Miranda knew the woman was right. The amount of fire one adjutant had absorbed meant that multiple in close quarters would be disastrous. They turned to the most basic defense of all: they ran.

"We need to find somewhere open where they can't surprise us!" Aria explained as they ran.

"Might not have been surprised if some bitch hadn't forgotten to mention them," Jack said acidly.

For once she was in agreement with the convict. By the time they made it to the end of the maintenance corridor she could see at least half a dozen of the creatures running after them. Aria had been right about that too . They weren't slow, in fact they were gaining. Letting the asari lead the way, they took a sharp right and vaulted over a number of waist high barriers that had been left blocking the way.

"We've got forty-five seconds at best before they make up the distance, Aria!" Miranda yelled.

"I know! This way leads to one of the main thoroughfares! We can use the stairs leading to it as a choke point."

As promised, the oppressiveness of Omega's tunnels widened into a more expansive area of two levels that were open air in the middle. It looked as if it was meant to be a residential area where small stands and shops could have been set up in the middle. Aria turned the final corner towards the stairs only to slide to a halt with a curse in her fluid native tongue.

"Come on, why are we stopping? Those things are coming!" Carmichael blurted.

The reason was obvious, though, as the stairs that they had hoped to use to their advantaged were blocked. A shimmering field of red energy covered the archway at the base of the stairs. From the way it popped and sizzled in the air Miranda suspected that any contact with the field would be ill-advised. There was no time to experiment.

"Take up defensive positions. Carmichael, left flank. Zaeed, cover the right! I'm going to assume that teaching children hasn't dulled your biotic abilities, Jack?"

"Fuck you, Princess."

There wasn't long to wait for the attack. The adjutants came around the same corner in long, loping strides that ate up the ground. To his credit, Carmichael didn't hesitate this time, opening up at the same moment as Zaeed. At first she thought the old mercenary was losing his touch as his rounds seem to track low. Then she watched him stitch a line of fire up the creature's leg and send it tumbling to the ground as the limb gave out.

Weapons fire wasn't enough to stop the rush, but thankfully they had a great deal more than guns. The closest two adjutants ran directly into the path of Jack's biotic shockwave, the gravity distortions leaving them dangling in mid air for a brief second. It was brief because Aria followed up with an assault of her own, a concentrated blast of biotic force that struck the same enemy. As the two biotic fields touched they reacted violently, the ensuing detonation shredding the adjutant's pallid gray flesh from their bones.

Miranda caught the next in her own biotic field, hurtling the creature upwards towards the ceiling before yanking it to the floor with the same force as a falling boulder. The two soldiers did their best to slow the remaining creatures down, but the adjutants were simply too quick and resilient to be downed before reaching their defensive line.

One of the adjutants swiped a taloned hand over the barricade Zaeed was using for cover just as the mercenary's rifle clicked empty. With a loud curse he yanked the heavy pistol from his hip and pounded six shots straight into the creature's head, causing it to collapse over the barrier with a final gurgle.

Carmichael didn't have the same training or luck. His burst of rifle fire tore into the approaching adjutant's side, but in a single fluid motion it leapt, clearing half a dozen meters in the space of a heartbeat. Jack tried to knock the thing back with her biotics but another adjutant was almost on top of her, forcing the biotic to slam her assailant back with a sudden blast.

"Shit!" the pilot screamed as the adjutant landed on the barricade.

Miranda knew she'd be too slow even as she drew her pistol and focused her biotics. The creatures were deceptively fast and the adjutant had momentum on its side, its bulky form and sharp claws falling towards the soldier even as Carmichael fell backwards, trying to scramble away.

A pair of thunderous booms drowned out all other sound. The adjutant jerked in mid-strike, lurching violently to the side with an enormous chunk of its chest simply missing while the last remaining creature stopped abruptly a few feet from their lines. It took a single step forward before collapsing to the ground with an equally large cavity where its face should have been.

The former Cerberus operative spun, scanning the area around them. Perched above them were two forms on the second floor, both with massive rifles braced against the railing. A turian and either a human or a batarian from the design of their red and white armor.

"Good damn timing there!" Zaeed said with a guffaw, tossing the pair a casual salute.

"I… what?" Carmichael stammered, still seated on the ground and staring at the dead adjutant incredulously.

"Omega is no place for tourists," a flanged voice said.

A turian, female if Miranda judged correctly based on the slimmer build, stepped out of the shadows to their right. Half a dozen more armored men and women followed behind her. None of their gear looked state of the art, but most of it was military grade.

"Nyreen?" Aria asked.

It actually sounded like surprise in the asari's voice when the turian pulled back her hood, revealing a narrow face and prominent mandibles. The red paint of her facial markings matched the armor of the soldiers that now surrounded them.

"Aria T'lok… Omega's self-appointed queen returns," Nyreen replied sardonically. "Not quite the triumphant welcome you were expecting? Being saved by my pair of wannabe Archangels?"

Above them, one of the two snipers made a rude gesture as he was collapsing the bi-pod on his rifle.

"I thought you left Omega?" Aria inquired, ignoring the turian's verbal jab.

Nyreen shook her head.

"No, I only told you I left Omega. After that I made it a point to disappear. Ironic that I'm the one still here. Come on. Spirits know what your plan was for coming here but staying on the streets is a death sentence."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Miranda interjected .

Not that they had a great deal of choice in the matter but she couldn't help but automatically question the sudden aid. Omega didn't have much of a reputation for altruism. It wouldn't do them any good if they were saved from one threat only to end up in a worse situation.

"You don't… but if I'd wanted you dead you would be. And if you stay here it will only be a matter of time before more adjutants find you. Come with us or see how long it takes before one of these things kills you," the turian said, kicking at one of the fallen creatures. "Your choice."

"Point taken."

"Talons, let's move!" Nyreen ordered.

They followed Nyreen and her soldiers into one of the abandoned shops. The turian led them to a concealed doorway that led into tunnels that ran within the walls of Omega, the entrance itself would have been almost completely indistinguishable if Miranda hadn't been shown where it was. Beside her Carmichael was shaking his head.

"Problem, soldier?" Miranda asked.

"No ma'am, no problem at all. I just crashed here, ran through a busted, foul smelling space station and almost got my guts ripped out by some kind of Reaper zombie monster. Now I'm surrounded by half a dozen women that are all capable of killing me without effort. I'm just fucking fine."

The pilot jerked when Jack slapped him on the back, laughing.

"Sarcasm, that's how real men cope! You're alright kid. Just remember that last part and you'll go far."

Miranda shook her head, letting a faint smile cross her lips, and followed Nyreen and the others into the darkness below Omega.

* * *

><p>Petrovsky examined the readouts and pursed his lips. There was no question that Aria had made it to Omega but there was nothing to be done for it. In the end this 'invasion' could actually work to his advantage. With their initial assault blunted the Alliance didn't possess the manpower to stage a frontal assault. Isolated into smaller pockets they were being forced to fortify their positions against the rogue adjutants that roamed a significant portion of the station.<p>

It provided an opportunity. The fresh Alliance forces could help reduce the adjutants' numbers with their superior firepower, leaving him free to allocate troops to deal with the Talons. Nyreen Kandros's gang turned resistance movement didn't possess the same level of technology and training as the Alliance forces but they had a far more dangerous weapon: familiarity. The only way to deal with a well-equipped and elusive resistance movement was either to appease it or to destroy it with overwhelming force.

He had offered amnesty to any Talons that laid down their arms and had made good on his promise, attempting to take the former path to victory. Kandros was a mostly rational individual. In time he believed that he could have convinced her that Omega under Cerberus control was preferable to the mercurial dictatorship of Aria. With the resources at his disposal he could have turned the station into a true mirror of the Citadel instead of a festering hive of crime and filth.

The adjutants had ruined any chance he had of a peaceful path. His mistake had been not ensuring that every inch of the station had been purged of the creatures. An inexcusable oversight, one he regretted every moment. One of the things had escaped into the bowels of Omega only to emerge days later. Within hours there were dozens. Within the day, hundreds. By the time he realized what had occurred it was far too late.

Faced with overwhelming numbers of the horrific creations Petrovsky had made the decision to salvage what he could. Sending his troops to key points around the station he had spent nearly two days straight commanding engineering teams to set up another piece of technology from beyond the Omega 4 relay: thermal conductive fields sealing off every access point in a complicated web that spanned three decks.

And then he withdrew his troops. Every soldier that fell was another adjutant to add to the growing horde. It was a battle of attrition he could not engage in. Those inside the fields were protected; those without were left to fend for themselves. It was not a decision made lightly but it was the correct one.

"Display: Nyreen Kandros," the Cerberus general said, activating the console's voice controls.

In truth the general had been impressed at how well Nyreen had organized the former street gang into an effective force. Her turian military record scrolled across his screen. High marks in battlefield awareness and command, proficiency far beyond the standard weapons training for a typical soldier. And finally biotic abilities that had tested at impressive levels for a turian. Her file noted that she would have been in line for command of a cabal if she hadn't resigned.

It made the failure of his original plan leave an even more bitter taste in his mouth. Unlike many of his colleagues he had no direct animosity towards the alien species that populated the galaxy. The human species needed an advocate and Cerberus was that advocate. It did not mean that there could not be relationships built with the other species. An asset like Kandros on his side would have provided him a powerful edge.

"Close file."

Instead the Illusive Man's science experiments had left him in control of barely a fifth of the populated areas of the station. He had agreed to their use to facilitate the takeover of Omega, but he had been uneasy nonetheless. They were an uncontrolled variable, an imperfect technology salvaged from a derelict starship beyond the relay. How long the techno-organic creatures had been waiting there in stasis was almost impossible to tell.

The Illusive Man had insisted that they would be the key to securing humanity's place in the galaxy and defeating the Reapers. And under Cerberus's absolute control Petrovsky could not argue their effectiveness. There appeared to be no limit to the adjutants' ability to corrupt organic and even synthetic tissue. The few experiments that had been recorded using husks had shown that, if anything, the Reapers' foot soldiers were even more easily converted than typical organics. It was as if they had simply opened a box and found the silver bullet with which to dispatch their greatest threat.

That should have been a warning. Technology that could so easily override the commands of the Reapers? How exactly did they expect to control such power when they couldn't even take control of a single husk with their own experiments. Now what should have been a bastion of Cerberus's ascendant power was a station plagued with chaos.

Every time he asked for more men, more material to secure the station the answer he received was the same: Cerberus was stretched too thin. His own task force had been the most significant investment since the Lazarus Project. He would have to 'make do' with what he had.

Oleg stood and walked over to the small bar in what had been Aria's office, pulling a bottle from the bottom shelf and brushing away the dust. He grunted in appreciation. At least she had had good taste. He poured the liquor and returned to his seat, taking a slow sip.

He would make do. Cerberus had opened Pandora's Box, but it would survive. The Alliance had given him the means. Now he merely had to use the pieces in play.

* * *

><p>"This is my bunker!"<p>

"Oh? I didn't notice," Nyreen said to Aria dryly.

"I never told you about this!" the asari hissed.

"No, but you did tell me about the tunnels. And once you left Omega I used those tunnels to stay alive. The adjutants aren't mindless, but they seem to be more animal cunning and rote memory than truly intelligent. Thankfully they haven't figured out how to access them," the turian explained, gesturing to the massive doors that were slowly opening. "Then I started thinking like you. Why have this unfettered access to most of the station but set up your base of operations in a club? Not secure at all…"

"Impressive, but how did you get in?" Miranda asked. "I can't imagine Aria left it unlocked."

"Omega is home to some of the best techs and hackers in the Terminus systems. The same kind of people Aria paid to build it originally and then likely had killed . It took time, but we had plenty of that."

Zaeed grunted in approval.

"This is a proper goddamn hardpoint… automatic turret defenses, looks like mark nineteen Elkoss autoguns. Good model, that. Not fancy but it works until the barrels melt."

"I'm glad you approve, Mr. Massani. Your reputation precedes you," Nyreen replied over her shoulder.

The massive doors finally opened and they stepped inside. Miranda saw yet more members of Nyreen's Talons. More than just turians, though they seemed to be the majority, she saw humans and salarians, even a handful of krogans, vorcha, and asari. Most of them, even the krogans, were wearing warpaint that mirrored Nyreen's own markings.

Inside was an entire command and control center bathed in red emergency lighting, supplemented by the glow of consoles and readouts against every wall. Yet more Talons were within, sitting at most of the terminals, monitoring camera feeds and various streams of data from life support to external sensors. Two guards gave Nyreen a rather crisp salute that she returned before stopping and turning back to their small team.

"Welcome to the home of the Talons. Whatever plan you had when you got here the spirits took and dragged it straight into the abyss. You came here expecting a sprint? I'm afraid you've walked into a marathon, one we've been running for the past six months."

The turian's gaze drifted across all of them but seemed to pointedly directed at Aria.

"You want to retake Omega? Then you better start catching up."

* * *

><p><em>I'm back! Visual issues are hopefully solved and in even more good news: all of the original Razor's Edge is now available on my website at wulversden dot com! Mr chassan1 gave it a final review with excellent results. And as I mentioned last time, feel free to stop by the forums to ask any questions or make any general comments!<br>_

_ I hope you continue to enjoy as all the plots start coming to a head in Requiem. We've entered the final stretch I'd say... until next time, thanks for reading as sorry once again for the delay!_


	31. Chapter 30: Missing Pieces

Chapter 30: Missing Pieces

A crate flew past his head, forcing Shepard to spin on his heel and grasp it in a biotic field before throwing it back in the direction it had come. It had been a clever ploy, however, as the moment he turned around a second bulky cargo container was hurtling straight toward him. On instinct he threw himself upward in a biotically assisted leap.

Controlling the field that surrounded him, the Spectre threw himself all the way to the ceiling of the cargo bay and shoved off as if he was operating in zero-g, grabbing two of the heavy crates as he dove and managing to send each flying in a wild arc across the open space of the bay. Both came to an abrupt stop in midair a second later, dropping to the deck with a loud clang.

_We are the winner, Sings-of-Endings?_

Shepard used another small surge of biotic energy to slow his fall and land on both feet, falling into a crouch to absorb the impact. He stood and wiped sweat from his face, nodding at the brood warrior that was positioned opposite of him in the bay. Sings-Twilight's pedipalps swayed back and forth lazily. Crates were strewn around the rachni but none had made it past the hulking rachni's form.

"You got it. Zero to one," he said.

_This... game-song is interesting. It is a concept that warriors and queens do not practice._

"Really? How did you learn to use your biotics after you were… well, hatched I guess?"

_Memory-song teaches us how to manipulate the fields. Queens and elder warriors drive younger warriors to practice until we can replicate the abilities we see in the memory-song._

"This is more fun, though, eh? They certainly seem interested," the human asked, gesturing towards the support beams above where half a dozen rachni workers appeared to be observing them with rapt attention.

_This vessel is a largely new experience for all rachni. The small ones have discovered that as this is not a true hive-ship__;__ they lack sufficient tasks to occupy all of their non-resting hours._

"You mean they're bored?"

_We do not comprehend all of the emotional states of the two-legged singers but yes, we believe they sing... 'boredom'-songs?_ Twilight agreed hesitantly.

"I am sure we can find something for them to do," a familiar accented voice interrupted.

_They will cause no mischief,_ Devotion-Singer, _we provide songs of assurance and peace._

Shepard turned his head to give Tali a smile. The slim quarian had her arms crossed as she approached, shaking her head.

"It's alright. I've gotten used to them. Even if your people are a little too close to spiders for my taste the workers have been very useful. EDI says that her internal systems have never been so pristine since the Normandy left drydock," the quarian said and then poked at his bicep. "As for you… a message came through the QEC network. It was high priority but not emergency flagged. You'd know this if you hadn't disabled your omni-tool."

"Sorry; didn't want to get distracted. Trying to get anything past Twilight is impossible even with my full concentration."

She didn't bother to respond, merely giving him a dry look that said she was waiting for an explanation. It was amazing how easy it was to read her mood just from the way she leaned her body or the faint tilt of her head. Shepard smiled inwardly. Practice apparently did make perfect.

"It's a simple game. The starboard side of the cargo bay up to the armory is my side, the port is Twilights. There were a dozen empty cargo containers total. Each one that got past and touched the wall counted as a point for the other guy."

_We were victorious._

He heard the faintest sound of amusement from Tali and suppressed his own grin as best he could at the tone of the rachni's statement, all awash in pale blues and greens in his mind's eye. Clearly Twilight was pleased with his success despite typically being the more stoic of the two brood warriors that had accompanied them.

"I see. And this explains why you are covered in sweat and Urz is chained to the leg of the armory bench?"

"Ah… yea, Urz kept trying to catch the crates. He couldn't manage to bite them but then he just started kind of tackling them. As for this?" he asked, wiping away some of the moisture from his face and gave Tali a lopsided grin. "Turns out biotics are damn hard work. Especially when your opponent is a brood warrior."

The engineer rolled her eyes.

"So you say."

He took a step closer, his grin growing more devilish.

"Besides, I seem to recall you saying something about liking me when I was all 'worked up'..."

"I… that is… beside the point!" Tali stammered and quickly crossed her arms over her chest. "You should… get cleaned up and check with EDI about the… the message."

"Guess I could use a shower," he muttered, enjoying his teasing of the flustered quarian.

From the way she bounced slightly on her toes and swayed in place for a moment Shepard knew his little jab had been successful. If there was one thing Tali had come to adore since discovering life outside her suit it was water, specifically showers. There were days when he wondered if he would have to drag her out of the shower in his cabin, but that typically just ended with him joining her under the water. The other reason she had become more than a little fond of them.

After a long pause she finally spoke up, voice tightly controlled.

"You are an evil man, John Shepard. I am going back to work and ignoring you… oh, maybe you should check on Garrus? Kasumi said everything was fine, but he just seemed a little on edge after what happened on that stupid mining station."

"Garrus? Our Garrus? Got shot in the face with a rocket and was walking around the next day Garrus?"

That earned him a glare from Tali with her hands planted on her hips.

"Just do it. The two of you are entirely too alike."

"Evil?"

She paused once more and shook her head.

"Insufferable."

"Have fun doing diagnostics," he quipped.

Tali didn't bother to respond, leaving him standing in the cargo bay as she walked away. From the way she walked it was clear the quarian was doing her best to make sure he didn't leave the engagement entirely unscathed either, stopping just before entering the lift to give him a little sway of her hips and a look that said he was definitely going to pay for his moment of fun later one way or the other. There were worse fates.

_Songs of the two-legs are strange. So many violets and reds, but not of anger. Your songs are ever changing from moment to moment!_

Twilight's mental voice snapped him out of his daydream and brought him back to reality. The Spectre coughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"We are… interesting like that. I'm going to go get cleaned up. Thanks for the training, Twilight."

_We enjoyed the game-songs. We will teach the game-songs to others in time._

"Glad to hear it."

He had almost made it to the lift himself when Twilight's mental baritone sang into his thoughts once again.

_May your mating songs be fruitful, Sings-of-Endings!_

Shepard decided the only way to respond to that was to not respond at all, instead simply unlatching Urz's leash from the armory table and giving the big beast a scratch behind his head spines before heading to the elevator. He punched the button to close the doors and silently reminded himself not to flirt in front of rachni, any rachni, ever again.

* * *

><p>"You're much more suave when we're about to die," Kasumi teased.<p>

Garrus flexed his mandibles nervously and tried to think of something intelligent to say. He failed.

"Yeah…"

"You're not having second thoughts are you?" the thief asked.

Her tone was still light and teasing, but he could detect the hint of nervousness behind them in the way that her breathing quickened ever so slightly. They were standing in the pale glow of the gunnery bay's lights as Kasumi idly traced the neckline of his armor. He was once again left searching for words. He wanted to tell her just how wrong she was, how her scent was alluring in this close proximity and how he'd wished he hadn't taken so long to realize what he was feeling.

"Sorry, I'm just… I was never one of 'those' turians," he said at last. "I don't actually know what human women like. Or want. If you were a turian woman I'd be complimenting your fringe or… spirits I'm bad at this. Worst of all, my best friend is human and I don't dare ask him."

She left out a small sigh of what he hoped was relief and gave him an amused look.

"You're trying too hard, Scars. We might not have plates and mandibles, but human women aren't entirely different. Compliments always work no matter the species."

"Well if that's how it works then... your waist is… very supportive. And your fringe… hair looks nice?" he tried, reaching up to brush one of the jet black locks that hid beneath the small woman's hood.

"It's a start," Kasumi laughed. "So now that you've experienced it, what's your opinion on this strange human custom of kissing?"

The turian leaned down, his face now very close to hers.

"I'm starting to like it."

"Good…"

Human lips found his own and all he could think of was that he really was at least getting the hang of this particular custom. His turian instincts wanted him to nip and bite but this had its own advantages, especially in the small pleased sounds that came from Kasumi when he reciprocated and placed his hands on her hips, squeezing.

Everything in the moment was perfect. And then Garrus heard the most terrifying sound in the world.: the sound of the gunnery bay doors sliding open with a hiss. In an instant adrenaline flooded his system and his thoughts scattered as he began mentally kicking himself. He hadn't locked the doors! He had never needed to lock the doors before. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Shepard!" Kasumi gasped, stepping back. "Um… hi?"

Of course it was Shepard. Who else could it possibly have been to make things anymore awkward? His father? Maybe.

"Boss… you just… I was checking her ah… stealth circuitry. In the hood…" he stammered. "You know, after everything that happened…"

"Right. And then his mandible got caught. In the hood," the thief added, waving her hands about as if she was making a diagram.

"And since she relies on it so much I thought it would be a good idea. To check. So… yea," Garrus concluded lamely.

Shepard chuckled quietly and smiled. It was a warm, happy smile. Mostly. There was definitely a tinge of amusement there. Maybe a little vindictive glee.

"I'm happy for you both," the Spectre said at last. "I was supposed to be coming to check on your because Tali was worried, but it sounds like you've got someone to look out for you."

Stepping forward, Shepard clapped him on the shoulder and gave Kasumi a quick squeeze, whispering something in her ear that even Garrus couldn't quite catch. At least, unlike his human counterparts, Garrus didn't have to worry about blushing. It was a small comfort.

"Thanks, Shepard," he managed to say.

He turned to leave only to pause with his back to them both, opening his omni-tool. A good thirty seconds passed in silence, leaving Garrus staring at the Spectre's back quizzically. Finally Shepard closed his omni-tool and slapped the door controls.

"You're welcome, Garrus," Shepard said over his shoulder.

"What did he say to you?" the turian asked after he'd left.

Kasumi smiled.

"Nothing… what was he doing on his omni-tool, though? I couldn't get a good look."

Before he could answer, and make the obvious observation that Shepard very rarely said 'nothing', his own omni-tool made a soft bleat, informing him that he'd received an extranet message. He tapped his inbox with one talon to find a message from Shepard that simply said 'you'll be needing this'. Then he looked at the attachment.

_Scales and Skin: Human-Turian Relations, Allergic Reactions, and the Dangers of Chafing by Dr. Mordin Solus_

"Shepard!" Garrus yelled.

* * *

><p>"So this was your doing, EDI?"<p>

"Affirmative, Shepard. With the loss of Dr. Garneau our only remaining lead on the location and nature of Leviathan is the late Dr. Bryson's daughter, Ann," the AI explained. "She earned her degree in xenobiology three years ago and joined her father's research team after you were taken into Alliance custody."

He frowned at the memory of the wasted months but quickly brushed the thought aside.

"And we can't locate her?"

EDI shook her head, a gesture that was beginning to actually look natural. When she'd first obtained her new body her attempts at copying mannerisms of the crew had seemed stilted and forced, but as time continued to pass it became harder and harder to not think of her just like any other organic member of the Normandy.

"Unfortunately with the data loss sustained during the attack on Dr. Bryson's lab, too much was lost. The only discernible pattern was located by Specialist Traynor: multiple requests for research permits on remote asari worlds."

A harsh beep drew his attention to the airlock, the light flashing from red to green to indicate a seal. He nodded at EDI and the airlock door slid open. Standing on the other side was a tall asari woman clad in burgundy leathers and familiar golden highlights.

"Commander Shepard," Samara said. "It is a great pleasure to see you once more. I had feared when last we parted it might have been for the last time."

He smiled and took a step back, motioning her inside.

"It's good to see you again too, Samara. Come aboard… it sounds like we have a lot to discuss."

"Samara?" a voice came from his left. "You're okay!"

His chief engineer sounded slightly out of breath from the quick jog she must have taken to make it from engineering to the command deck in such a short time. To his surprise Tali quickly ducked past him to give the justicar a hug, one that Samara returned awkwardly but with a smile.

"Hello, child. I had hoped you would still be aboard."

Tali straightened herself up, stepping back and nodding.

"I am vas Normandy. This will always be my home," she said, glancing at Shepard. "Not always an easy home. But home."

"That is all one can ask for," Samara agreed. "I wish this reunion was under better circumstances. When EDI contacted my order I realized that the Goddess had united our paths once again. We have much to speak of."

"We do," Shepard said, and activated his omni-tool. "This is Shepard. I need the ground team assembled in the war room in five."

Quick greetings were exchanged as the others entered, though a little explaining was required regarding EDI's new body and their large rachni ally. In typically pragmatic fashion Samara simply accepted these new facts and moved on. There was something to be said for justicar single-mindedness.

"The reason for my presence is a simple one. I believe I know the location of the woman you seek," Samara began, getting right to the point. "A month ago my government received a request from a human researcher to visit our most restricted worlds. With reluctance we agreed in light of the war and the human government's insistence that this woman's research was crucial to the war efforts."

"Upon examining asari records it appears this individual was Dr. Ann Bryson," EDI explained. "It appears that Dr. Bryson and a small team of researchers were following another lead on Leviathan that led them to asari space."

Garrus rapped his talons on the table in thought.

"What would she hope to find on an asari world? Your people are the oldest space faring race in this cycle… by now I'd think you would have figured out anything that had been left behind."

Samara shrugged.

"I do not know. But the world that Dr. Bryson requested to visit is highly restricted. Two days ago all communication with the monastery on Lesuss ceased. I was sent to discover what had happened and… ensure its sanctity."

"Wait, monastery?" Tali asked. "What kind of monastery would be on a restricted world?"

The thin smile on the justicar's lips didn't reach her eyes.

"Lesuss is home to the Monastery of the Ardat-Yakshi. It is the world where my people's genetic shame is hidden away from the rest of the galaxy. And it is where my two remaining daughters have lived out their entire lives."

"Then we had better not waste any time. Joker-" Shepard began.

"Course already laid in, Commander," the pilot interrupted over the comms. "There's only a single relay between us and asari space. Time on target six hours, seventeen minutes."

"You heard the man. We've got no idea what we're going to find down there. Prepare accordingly," Shepard ordered. "Everyone is on deck for this one. Samara, you're welcome to check the armory for anything you may need. Once a part of the team, always a part of the team."

She inclined her head in a faint nod.

"Thank you, Shepard."

A dozen possibilities for what awaited them on Lesuss flashed through his head and he sighed.

"Don't thank me yet."

* * *

><p>Shepard snapped the last seal on his gauntlet and gave his fingers an experimental flex to make sure everything was in order. Beside him Garrus and Tali followed much the same ritual, each clad in the glimmering black of their rachni treated armor. He heard a small sound of amusement behind him and turned to see Samara standing with her hands at her back, smiling at them.<p>

"It would seem your penchant for symbolic armoring has spread to the others," she observed. "I believe you would have made an excellent justicar in another life."

"I don't think he has the chest to pull off your outfit," Kasumi interjected slyly. "But he'd look pretty in the gold."

He merely rolled his eyes and lifted his pistol from the workbench, sliding it home into the holster at his hip.

"I'm not going to complain either way. If I'd had this stuff on Omega I might have ended up with a few less scars," Garrus said.

Joker's voice over the comm interrupted their pre-mission bantering.

"We're in system… and you're not going to like it, Commander."

"What have we got?" he asked.

"I'm showing a Geneva-class cruiser in orbit around the planet's moon. It's not alone. There's also a Reaper in orbit of the planet itself, one of the smaller destroyers. Looks like the cruiser is keeping the moon between it and the destroyer"

"An Alliance ship here too?" Tali suggested.

"No such luck. The readings are all wrong… it's Cerberus," Joker confirmed. "I don't know how the Illusive Man got all these ships, but I know an Alliance ship when I see one."

The situation had gone from bad to worse in only a few sentences. A lone destroyer was, in truth, not much of a threat in space. The Normandy's main guns could cripple the smaller Reaper's with a single direct hit, and without other vessels to support it there was nothing stopping them from approaching in stealth and catching the machine with a sucker punch. Cerberus' presence was the wild card.

"Joker, I want you in close. We're going to have to go in quietly with the shuttle, but if that Reaper looks like it's going in for a landing you're going to have to take it out. Once it gets on the ground we won't be able to use the main guns."

"Aye aye."

The last of the team had arrived in the form of Twilight and EDI. Unlike the rest, neither wore any sort of protective gear. EDI's synthetic body didn't care about vacuum and Twilight had informed him that brood warriors had long since evolved to function in almost any atmosphere. He motioned for the team to load up.

"Cortez, you're following Samara's lead. She'll get us where we need to go."

"The monastery is the only artificial structure on the planet. If you approach from the southern quadrant the canyons and rock formations will provide cover from visual protection," the asari explained. "It will, however, require skill to navigate."

Cortez nodded and deftly piloted the shuttle out of the hangar bay.

"Don't worry about that, ma'am," he replied. "I'll get you in and out again."

He didn't disappoint. Within minutes they had punched through the atmosphere. The shuttle seemed to sway back and forth like an ancient sailing ship on violent seas while Shepard did his best to focus on Samara.

"What sort of defenses were in place here?"

"Minimal. Those that have expressed the traits of an Ardat-Yakshi are forbidden to leave the monastery, but security is almost entirely automated. A single squad of commandos is stationed here to deter any pirates or other raiders foolish enough to encroach on asari space."

"Even after the war began?" Tali asked.

"This world was considered to have no strategic significance," Samara explained calmly. "The Reapers have only now advanced deep enough into our space for the planet to be close to the front lines, and with no military infrastructure or significant population we had no reason to believe it would come under attack."

"If the Reapers and Cerberus are here at the same time… something changed," Garrus said.

The asari nodded sadly.

"So it would seem."

Another few minutes of stomach churning piloting from Cortez finally got them to their destination.

"On site in ninety seconds!" the pilot yelled over his shoulder. "There's one hell of a mess outside."

"Understood. Samara, you and I will take point. Twilight, you're on rearguard with Garrus. EDI and Tali, I want you both checking every system, log, and signal to see if we can locate Dr. Bryson. From the sound of it this is now a general rescue operation," Shepard rattled off. "Any questions?"

"Me?" Kasumi asked.

"Do what you always do. Be in the right place at the right time."

With no further objections heard he picked up one of the Vindicators from the weapon rack and tucked it into his shoulder, grabbing the overhead rail with one hand. The shuttle touched down a moment later, Spectre and asari leading the way out of the ship.

Lessus' azure sky and pale blue landscape made it look as if it made for the asari. Ahead of them was building made of the same smooth stone. The idyllic image was shattered by the bodies scattered across the small courtyard that led to the monastery entrance. The stark white and black armor of fallen Cerberus troops contrasted sharply with the fewer dead asari they could see. A handful husks and other creations of the Reapers were mixed among the fallen. It appeared as if both forces had arrived all at once.

"Any communications, distress signals, anything?" he asked.

"Nothing, Shepard. There are no active signals of any kind," EDI informed him. "It is… silent."

A shuttle sat to their right on the landing pad. The door stood open. A quick glance within revealed an interior that had been riddled with weapons fire. No bodies were found, but the shuttle would clearly not fly without significant repairs.

"Alliance make," Garrus pointed out. "Bryson's transport?"

"Probably. Doesn't look like they wanted anyone using it," he agreed. "Let's keep moving. If they took the time to disable the shuttle it means they were worried about Bryson escaping."

There was no resistance when they pushed open the wide doors to the monastery. Not modern doors of hydraulics and steel, these were some kind of wood on traditional hinges. Everything looked old even by asari standards. Within, the state of things appeared no better. Just inside they found the body of another asari, this one clearly had been a commando judging from her armor. Impact points dotted the stone walls and supporting pillars.

"They attempted to hold the enemy here," the Justicar observed, nodding at the dozen or so Cerberus soldiers.

"No husks here. Cerberus must have won the initial engagement," Garrus added. "Who would fight this hard to get into a monastery full of potential biotic murderers?"

"Garrus!" Kasumi hissed.

The turian clamped his mandibles tightly against the side of his face.

"Sorry, Samara."

"There is no need for apology. Your assessment is not incorrect," she replied sadly. "We isolate those that show the potential to be ardat-yakshi because the temptation of asari society is too great. Once an ardat-yakshi experiences the power of their deadly embrace they are lost. My daughters… they are no different."

"They are different. Morinth became a killer, the rest of your daughters didn't," Shepard said.

The justicar inclined her head in his direction, acknowledging even if not necessarily accepting his statement. As they moved further into the expansive building the situation improved little. Computer terminals were shattered, desks and tables overturned while streaks of drying blood dotted the floor in places. The one thing that gave Shepard some small hope was that they'd found few fallen asari.

Tali approached one of the undamaged terminals and after a few moments it flickered gamely to life. While he and the rest of the team secured the immediate area EDI and the engineer focused on retrieving what data they could. A few unintelligible curses told him that the search had gone poorly.

"These systems are so partitioned I can barely gain access to anything else on the system," the quarian complained.

"I am experiencing similar difficulties," EDI agreed. "I have overridden the existing security Vis, but it appears that the majority of the monastery's terminals are physically cut off from any general network. I have detected no active extranet connection."

Shaking her head, Tali gestured at the terminal she'd been using.

"Mostly I'm seeing communication logs. Various asari talking about everything from chores to banned holo-vids that they somehow acquired. The only relevant information I was able to find was a system alert that told everyone to return to their quarters."

"The individuals here are isolated from most modern media for fear that such things will increase their feeling of isolation and stimulate their desire to meld with other beings," Samara explained.

_Sings-of-Endings! Something approaches from within the monastery-hive!_

The rachni's mental song was full of pale yellows, confusion and worry. Whatever it was the brood warrior hadn't given it a name. Shepard's rifle snapped up to point in the direction that Twilight had indicated, the others quickly following suit.

Out of the sudden silence there was a blood curdling shriek that echoed through the stone halls of the monastery. It was an unnerving sound of unspeakable torment and rage that made every hair on his body stand on end. Around him he could see the rest of his team shift uneasily in place with the exception of EDI's synthetic form.

"What was that?" Kasumi asked, swallowing heavily.

Before he could form a response the doors on the other side of the room were slammed open, knocked clean from the hinges. There was a blur of motion, like a photo taken of an object moving too fast, and then something snapped into focus halfway between the doorway and his team. Another bone rattling scream, this time all the more jarring for its close proximity, filled the room.

The thing was taller than a krogan but grossly proportioned with rail thin limbs and a swollen mid-section. Its head was a wreath of curved blades framing a gaunt face, the mouth appearing to be opened in a permanent scream. There was little question of the monster's origins. The dead gray flesh shot through with pulsing blue cybernetics spoke of the touch of the Reapers. Beside him he heard Samara speak in a shaky whisper.

"Goddess… no…"

That was when he made the connection. For all its warped appearance... hands that ended in talons each the length of a combat knife, black pointed teeth exposed by its curled lips, there was a disturbing familiarity to it. It was not a nightmare created only by Reaper imagination. The creature had once been an asari.

The thing seemed to shimmer again and an instant later it had covered half a dozen meters. He shook his head, snapping out of the horrified awe that had held him.

"Take it down!" he barked.

It reached out with razor tipped fingers and began to surge again, but the instant barrage that followed his order sent it staggering backwards. Mass accelerator rounds tore into its thinly stretched skin while a massive blast of biotic energy from Twilight sent it staggering back another step. Ichor pumped from its wounds but it didn't fall. Instead it took another slow step forward.

"Son of a bitch..." Shepard muttered. "Garrus!"

"On it!"

The abomination screamed again but at the peak of its howl the thunderous roar of Garrus' rifle retorted. Its head snapped backwards and the scream stopped, the creature's form shuddering and collapsing in on itself as they watched. Before its body could reach the floor, a tiny vortex of biotic energy had reduced it to dust.

"That… that was an asari," Tali whispered.

"Once, yes," Samara said, her voice uncharacteristically thin. "Shepard, this must be stopped."

"I know. But if there was one of these… asari husks here that means the Reapers found what they came for."

_We have heard the songs of thousands of lives, some are twisted and dark, but always there is melody,_ Twilight hummed in the minds of those nearby, sounding shocked. _It had no melody!_

"It had no song? Like EDI, a synthetic?" Kasumi suggested. "At least that means it was just a machine now, right?"

The response that came from the rachni was soaked in deep purples and blacks, a feeling of pure horror accompanying it.

_No, Whisper-Singer. Cold-singers possess no songs, no melody, no sound. We heard its song. It was a song without color or harmony. It only screamed a single endless note._

Shepard tightened his grip on his rifle and ground his teeth, finally spitting out a single order.

"Then we put them down."

* * *

><p>Screams. For countless hours the screams had been going on outside the heavy blast doors that separated the main hall from the rest of the monastery. At first they had been normal enough, expected even. The Reapers had gone about the grim work, harvesting the asari as they cried out for salvation to their goddess.<p>

Kai Leng felt his lips curl into an involuntary sneer, a voice whispering in the back of his head that it only proved the weakness of their species. It told him that if he was practical he would throw the half dozen asari that had made it into the hall with them outside, delay the Reapers a little longer.

The screams, though, had changed as time had gone on. They were no longer the screams of frightened girls. Now they were a chorus of howls that made the stone beneath his feet vibrate faintly. No, if he opened the blast doors even for a moment they would be overrun. He would not give in to such petty desires no matter what he thought of the blue skinned vermin.

"W-We can't stay here…" a voice behind him stammered.

The operative sneered at the woman.

"We cannot leave either, Doctor Bryson," he said, using her title mockingly. "Unless you prefer to be harvested like those mewling creatures outside?"

She shook her head. One of her eyes was heavily swollen and dried blood coated her lower lip. Whenever Leng moved she took an involuntary step away. Not unexpected. He had the information that he needed, but the doctor had put up a good fight trying to keep it. Leng knew quite well that everyone had their limits, though, and it only disgusted him more than Bryson had finally broken only when he began to execute a few of the remaining asari.

"No," she replied quietly, moving back towards the asari huddled in the corner.

An intelligent woman, attractive and accomplished. She could have been an asset to Cerberus if not for her misguided sympathies. Now she was just as useless to him as the asari. Part of him wanted to satisfaction of ending their lives himself, but pragmatism won out again. When the Reapers scratching at the door finally gained entrance their deaths would buy him important seconds.

"Sir, charges have been planted. The detonator has been programmed for a three second deadman's switch. Once activated, it cannot be disarmed without detonation."

He glanced at the centurion that had addressed him. The heavily armored troopers weren't augmented to the same degree as the standard footsoldiers that the Illusive Man had utilized to turn his covert operation into a standing army. Each had been an individual already loyal to Cerberus and thus didn't need quite the same… encouragement as the more green volunteers. Most had even accepted their enhancement eagerly.

"And the yield?" he asked curtly.

"Equivalent yield of two hundred kilograms TNT," the man assured him. "Successful detonation should result in sufficient force to destabilize the monastery assuming the blast does not cause an immediate collapse."

"It will have to suffice. Bind the woman and the aliens to the explosive. We cannot risk survivors," Leng ordered.

They followed orders without question, dragging the asari and Doctor Bryson over to where the metal cylinder sat in the middle of the room. Most of them were simply sniveling like frightened animals, though the last simply moved numbly. Dark blood stained her side where one of the Reaper abominations outside had sank its talons into her in an attempt to drag the asari away.

Outside the screeching quieted suddenly, causing Leng to pause and look at the heavy doors. He motioned for his men to take positions. Half a dozen were all that had survived the Reaper counter attack; he hadn't anticipated such an immediate response. After dispatching the probing forces that had arrived only moments after they had landed they had barely penetrated the monastery's defenses before a much larger and more substantial force of husks had arrived.. At the time he hadn't understood why.

"Orders, sir?" the other remaining centurion asked.

"Hold your ground. We will not allow the Reapers to gain possession of the information here. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

He took a step back and surveyed the room. Twin curved staircases led to the room's only exit. Six men, three asari captives and Bryson. Whatever the Reapers had created outside was clearly dangerous, but if he was correct what was left of his men would buy him approximately four and a half seconds. The husks' fixation on the asari could be counted on for another two seconds. More than enough time engage the explosive and utilize his stealth net to escape.

"You have to take us with you!" one of the asari pleaded.

At his dispassionate glare she continued.

"Please! You can't just leave us behind to those things! We're supposed to be allies… don't abandon us to… those things!"

"Just as your kind left humanity to our fate during the First Contact War?" Leng sneered. "The turians are your attack dogs, everyone knows it. You used them to put down the krogan and you would have done the same humanity if we hadn't shown that we would put up more of a fight."

"I had been here for seventy years when-"

The loud crack echoed through the room when Leng's armored fist connected with the side of the girl's face.

"You couldn't kill us with your pet monsters and so you tried to wrap us in your beaurocracy. Weaken us from within by seducing humans with your filth. Always talking of peace and stability while your kind grew fatter as we struggled for every world."

Leng took a deep breath and leaned down close to where the asari now knelt.

"One day your kind will learn their place."

Any response was lost when a loud hiss of releasing seals made Leng freeze in place. The surprise lasted only a second but by the time he had turned and drawn his pistol the Cerberus operative found himself staring at a completely unexpected sight. A surge of anger caused his blood to immediately boil.

A man stood with a Vindicator assault rifle leveled directly at him, organically curved obsidian armor glistening the bluish light of the monastery. Around him stood a familiar if repulsive sight all with guns drawn. Cerberus' once loyal synthetic, an asari justicar, even one of the freakish rachni monstrosities responsible for his failure on the Citadel. And of course the traitor's ever present shadows: his pet turian and little quarian whore.

"Shepard," he spat.

"Leng. I thought I smelled some kind of filth. I thought it was just the Reapers. I should have known it was too foul just for them. Step away from the women or I put a bullet in you now instead of later."

He gauged his chances. Reapers were dangerous but predictable. He had no illusions about the capabilities of his troops. They'd be dead before the first round had struck Shepard's shields. Moving slowly he took two steps to the side, careful not to look towards the explosive device and its detonator.

"A traitor to his species has the gall to talk about filth? You disgust me…"

"The feeling is mutual. Order your men to drop their weapons."

"Or what? You'll open fire?" Leng laughed without a hint of humor. "A stone room with four lovely captives at the center? I wonder what a few ricochets would do to asari flesh?"

Then there was a scream. Not from outside, but from his left. All attention snapped to the asari that knelt on the floor. It was the wounded one from early, she was clutching her head with her one good hand and screaming in apparent pain.

"Get out!"

"Rila?" the justicar said above, sounded surprised, but he didn't have time to wonder.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Leng barked at the woman.

When she looked up her eyes were completely black.

"They are coming."

Now the howling began. It was the same unnerving tone that had been grating on his sanity in the hours that they had been trapped within the monastery. It was also an excellent distraction.

"One day I will kill you, Shepard," he snarled and then barked at the nearby centurion. "Open fire!"

There was something to be said for blind obedience. As expected three of his men simply dropped where they stood the moment the words left his lips. The remainder at least managed to fire, though one died a split second later as a hooded figure materialized to his left near the asari and pumped a burst of fire directly into one trooper's exposed back. Goto. Yet another traitor.

They had served their purpose, though. Leng activated his stealth net and leapt, clearing the entire distance to the land in a single effort of cybernetically enhanced strength. The operative was forced to dive and roll as a blind swing by Shepard, his damned biotic blade crackling in the air, nearly took his head off despite his invisibility. Keeping his momentum Leng rolled to his feet and took off at a sprint.

"Leng!"

He ground his teeth with every step, a few stray rounds zipping past him. Next time he wouldn't be the one running away. But his mission was too important to indulge in his desire to deliver Shepard his much deserved punishment. Next time.

* * *

><p>"Leng!" Shepard yelled as he felt the invisible assassin land and run away.<p>

The Spectre snapped off three quick bursts in the direction that Leng was fleeing, but only managed to connect with stone walls. He cursed to himself and lowered his rifle. The screams of the Reapers' new creations were already growing closer.

"Fall back into the room. EDI, Kasumi… check on the asari and Dr. Bryson. Tali, I need these doors closed again!"

As much as he wanted to put Leng in the ground once and for all there were more important problems at hand. He should have realized that the Reapers wouldn't have simply abandoned their pursuit. It had been a trap, nothing more. Get a few more victims all in one place. With luck they could hold out for a short time at least if the gouges in the stone around the door were any indication.

"On it," Tali replied.

"Cover her," he ordered, looking straight at Garrus.

The turian simply nodded, taking up a position near the door.

He jogged down the stairs to find Samara speaking to two of the asari captives. EDI was examining the large metal cylinder they were huddled around. Shepard was terrible at judging ages on most asari, but from the way Samara had reacted he had to assume these were her two daughters. The one that he assumed to be the youngest was speaking rapidly, while the other was still clutching her head.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Shepard, these are my daughters: Falere and Rila. Isala is another member of the monastery, a friend of Falere's. I can only assume that you are Doctor Bryson," Samara said, indicating the human woman.

"I am," she replied with a wince when Kasumi cut away the binders on her wrists.

The look on the woman's face: pained resignation, along with her physical condition only made Shepard regret letting Kai Leng escape even more. Clearly her status as a human hadn't saved her from brutal treatment at Cerberus hands. He could only hope that she was up to what was likely to be a hectic escape.

"Doctor Bryson, I'm Commander Shepard. We're going to get you out of here," he promised. "Are there any other survivors? Other members of your team or other asari?"

Bryson shook her head weakly.

"No… it was only myself and a small team. Only two of us even brought weapons and those were left in the shuttle. Richard… died in the initial attack. Jenna and Tomas were killed when Cerberus came after us."

"We've been stuck in here for hours," Falere interjected, shuddering. "After the first few minutes all we heard… were screams. The commandos tried to stop them, Mother… they tried..."

"We are here now, child. We will end this," Samara said.

"Shepard, we have a problem! I can't re-engage the locking mechanism! My hacking program got us in but the system is too far gone," Tali yelled from above.

He nodded, motioning for them both to cover the entrance. Samara reached out for her youngest daughter as tears began to fall from her eyes. The hand that the justicar extended was intercepted by the frantic grip of her other daughter. Rila looked up at her mother, eyes still black as night and face contorted in pain.

"You cannot stop them, Mother. They are everywhere. They are everything…"

"Rila, release-"

Shepard cut in, taking the asari's arm himself and pulling her away from her mother. Her eyes raised to his helmet and she shrank back. Even through his gauntlet he could feel her violent shivering and while the darkness might have obscured her pupils from view he could still see the way her gaze darted frantically.

"Do you hear them too, Rila?"

"You know?" she whispered.

"I've been hearing them ever since the screaming started," Shepard replied. "Under all that sound, whispers and pleading, telling you what's coming?"

"What is going on here, Shepard?" Samara demanded.

He glanced over his shoulder at the older woman.

"Indoctrination. Maybe it's the wound or maybe it's something else. But I can practically feel it now. Those monsters outside were asari once. What the Reapers can't gain by force they'll seek to gain through manipulation and fear."

"We can't stop them!"

The Spectre turned his attention back to the asari in his grip.

"We can. We have. I have," he argued, reaching up with his free hand to release the seals of his helmet. "You can hear them. They know exactly who I am. What do they say?"

Rila stared at his exposed face, freezing in place like an animal that had been caught in a spotlight. So fixated on him that she didn't even register the hulking form of a rachni moving behind her until one sharp claw touched her shoulder.

_Do not listen to the sour-yellow notes,_ Twilight sang into their minds. _Listen to the song within, listen to the songs of your brood-mother. Hear the songs of Sings-of-Endings. Deny the dark-song destroyers!_

The asari suddenly went limp and would have fallen if he hadn't caught her. Her eyes fluttered, opening again clear of the jet black that had dominated them before. Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes.

"Mother… Falere…"

Her sister quickly moved to support her and Shepard stepped back. Samara seemed torn, her usual stoic justicar demeanor warring with her desire to embrace her children. She settled for resting one hand atop of Rila's forehead and giving a faint smile, but the moment of joy on her daughter's face was quickly washed away by fear.

"You have to go," Rila pleaded. "You have to go now! I felt them in my head… they're… still there. If you don't run they'll take you too."

The omni-tool at his wrist beeped and Shepard pulled his helmet back on, activating his internal comms.

"Boss, we've got maybe a minute before those things are on top of us if the sensors are right. And there are… a whole damn lot of them," Garrus said into his ear. "Like dozens. Maybe a hundred even."

"Understood," he replied and looked to the others. "We've got to get moving. Doctor Bryson, Rila, can you run?"

The wounded sister shook her head violently.

"No! It's too late! You can't stop them… you don't understand! They move faster than any natural being once they see you. I watched them chase down the other girls… no matter how fast we ran. And I can still hear them. In my mind. T-They hate you, Shepard. I can hear them screaming to kill you..."

"We're not the kind of give up," Kasumi said quietly. "We'll try our best to get you all out."

"You'll fail. But there's another way."

Before any of them could work out what she meant Rila reached out and snatched something from the top of the metallic cylinder. Shepard recognized it instantly. A detonator, the kind usually used to detonate explosives that were on a hardwired line to prevent any premature detonation or overriding by an enemy using military omni-tools. All he could do was watch as she pressed the button.

He expected everything to end in a burst of heat and light. A dozen regrets and things left unsaid flashed across his consciousness. But there was only silence as everyone stood completely still. The device gave a loud beep and began to hum. Rila slid out of her sister's grip and slumped down with her back against the device.

"There's an elevator behind the statue to Athame," Rila said, nodding towards the altar at the back of the room. "The…the commandos used it sometimes, we weren't supposed to know. But those of us that have been here the longest would sneak out sometimes."

"What are you doing?" Falere yelled.

"Making sure you get out alive," the other asari replied. "Mother… told me to watch out for you… isn't that right?"

"It is," Samara said, crouching before her daughter. "What have you done, Rila?"

"The human said that the device is on a dead man's switch. Once I release the trigger the bomb will detonate three seconds later. It will bring down the monastery. And all those things with it."

A screech interrupted, this time close. Shepard didn't need to ask just how close as Garrus' rifle responded in kind. He watched as Rila winced again, her eyes becoming clouded. The asari shook her head as if trying to dispel the demons that plagued her.

"Go… go now, before it's too late!" Rila yelled.

"No!" Falere screamed and lunged forward.

Samara was faster, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her towards the statue. Kasumi and EDI already had the elevator activated, motioning Samara and her daughter inside. To her credit there was no hesitation in Samara's movements, only the briefest pause as she looked back at the daughter she was leaving behind.

"Garrus, Tali! Fall back down! Double time!"

"S-Shepard…" Rila muttered.

The asari's eyes were pure black once more, but her voice did not carry the panicked tone that had dominated it previously. Her face was strained and tight, but there was resolve there. A reminder that strength was not the sole domain of soldiers and warriors.

"I'll make sure they get out, Rila. You won't be forgotten."

A strange smile crossed her features at that.

"We have always been the... forgotten of the asari. I don't… aahhh-" the woman paused as another screech caused her to clench her eyes tightly shut. "I don't care what happens… to me. But tell them. Tell them all… that the monsters that they feared… locked away… that we chose to die free, even if we couldn't… live that way."

"I will, Rila."

Rila nodded, the smile remaining on her face.

"Goodbye, Commander."

Screams now rang endlessly through the halls, and he turned to see the first of the creatures enter the room. Dozens followed behind, moving in short bursts before slowing down to an almost methodical pace. With a final nod of thanks to the woman he ran for the elevator. Inside he slammed his fist against the controls. The doors slid shut, and immediately the lift began to rise.

The elevator had just reached the surface when the explosion rocked them all, sending them reeling and grasping the sides of the lift to keep their feet. Overhead lights flickered and sparks shot from the control panel. He dropped his rifle and yanked the doors open manually.

"Go!"

He had just pulled himself out when a second tremor ran through the ground. The sound of screeching metal and a dull roar filled his ears. Marble beneath his feet cracked and heaved as he pushed himself into a run. A wave of dust and debris slammed into his back, knocking him from his feet.

Shepard felt hands grip him under his arms a few seconds later and drag him to his feet.

"Cut it close," Garrus muttered.

"Too close," he agreed.

Falere was standing, looking at the ruins of the monastery. Tears made tracks down her dusty face.

"We left her to die!" she sobbed.

"No. Rila made her choice. She fought against the will of the Reapers and gave her life to save the lives of others. Your life," Samara said, gazing at her daughter. "She reminded me of what is truly important."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, stepping forward.

Samara didn't even turn in his direction.

"The Code is clear. There is no way for an Ardat-Yakshi to live outside of a monastery that no longer exists. To save my only daughter there is only one course of action," she explained serenely, reaching down and drawing her pistol.

"M-Mother! No!"

"My daughters. You were all so much stronger than I believed. I loved you all."

For the first time since he had met the justicar on Illium he saw Samara truly smile as she met her daughter's eyes. She flicked the safety off the pistol and raised it… pressing the barrel against her own temple.

"No!" he roared, the word leaving his throat without thought.

Just as instinctual was the biotic energy that surged through him. He knew it wouldn't be enough as soon as he did it; Samara was a justicar, one of the most powerful biotics the asari had ever seen. It would be all too simple for her to simply deflect his much less refined abilities, Cerberus implants or no.

Which left him all the more surprised when that didn't happen. The pistol was struck by the bolt of force he had lashed out with, knocked from her hands, and Samara's entire body was wreathed in a biotic glow.

_Sorrow-Singer will not end her song!_

He gave the rachni a quick nod of acknowledgement.

"Release me!"

"No… there's been too much death today, Samara."

"This is the only way. I will not kill my only remaining daughter, Shepard!"

He stalked over to stand before the immobilized justicar, yanking the helmet from his head and throwing it to the side.

"Then don't!"

"The Code-"

"The Code is a set of rules written before some of our species developed tools!" he bellowed. "Morinth was a monster. And you took responsibility for that by becoming a justicar. But your Code is words on a page! It is not an excuse to stop living your life!"

"It is all I have!" she replied vehemently.

"No. You have a daughter. One died because she couldn't control her urges. The other died to save you and her sister! Now you want to make your daughter watch you die as well? Is that the legacy you'll leave behind?"

She strained heavily against the biotic field holding her, but apparently a rachni brood warrior's strength was a match even for an asari matriarch. Finally she slumped against the glowing field.

"I swore an oath to uphold the Code on my life."

"And I swore to always obey orders. To protect the Systems Alliance and its citizens. Since then I've died, allied with a terrorist organization… as a Spectre I've committed acts that would be crimes in any civilized government," he said. "And if I have learned anything it's that there is no law, no Code, no oath that is stronger than the bonds that we forge with the people in our lives."

Samara shook her head.

"An oath to a military is not the same, Shepard. Would you not give your life for those you love? For Tali'Zorah?"

"Without hesitation," he answered.

"I am a justicar. We embody the Code because we do not waver. If instead they told you to commit murder? Genocide? Where is the line, Shepard?"

He stepped very close, meeting Samara's eyes and speaking to the justicar in a harsh whisper.

"How much blood is on both of our hands, Samara? Does your Code make it just? Or does it simply give you an excuse? The truth is there is no line. I will be drowned in that blood if in the end it means that Tali, Garrus… all of them are saved. An oath or a code is a collection of words. I have a purpose. Do you?"

Shepard stepped back and nodded at Twilight. The rachni seemed unsure but released its biotic hold. Samara kept her footing and looked at the pistol in her hand and back at her daughter.

"For the first time in a thousand years there is no monastery of the Ardat-Yakshi… if that is true then it is my duty to ensure the safety of all asari and escort any survivors to a secure location," the justicar said at last.

Falere smiled and nodded.

"I will go wherever you ask me to, Mother. Rila and I… we could have left this place. The security wasn't impossible. We stayed because we made a promise to you."

For the second time since he'd known her Shepard got to see a genuine smile on Samara's face.

"My brave daughters."

* * *

><p>Hours later the Normandy was on its way towards the relay. Chakwas had Doctor Bryson confined to sick bay for treatment while Samara had been granted a cabin for herself, Falere, and Isala. To Shepard it felt as if he couldn't wash away the dust of the monastery, even if the suit had kept virtually all of it from his skin.<p>

He knew that he would hear that unearthly scream in his dreams for many nights to come. Twilight's words had only been all the more haunting. He had always thought of the husks they'd killed as little more than technological zombies. The idea that some shred of the individual they had been in life remained trapped within was enough to make him feel ill.

The questions that plagued his mind were distracting enough that he didn't even notice when the shower door opened. It wasn't until he felt soft, three fingered hands wrap around him from behind that he registered Tali's presence, smiling tiredly.

"Are you okay? You've been in here for twenty minutes," she teased gently.

Shepard turned and brushed away some of the silvery hair that was now plastered to Tali's face by the water.

"I don't know if 'okay' is a phrase I'll ever feel comfortable using again," he replied. "I had their voices in my head for so long, but at least I was still me. The thought that there's something worse... every time I think this war has reached the bottom there's a darker place, just another step down."

"It wasn't all for nothing," Tali replied. "Samara lost a daughter, but she could have lost them both."

"I just hope it's enough."

Tali smiled at him, showing pointed canines. It wasn't a joyous smile, but it was warm. It reminded him of just what was at stake, remembering the words that he'd spoken to Samara. When she spoke again it was with a hand running down the side of his face, fingers grazing the stubble that marked his jaw.

"We stopped them. One more victory for the war. That's what's important."

"No…" Shepard said, shaking his head.

He leaned down and kissed the quarian soundly. For a moment he simply lost himself in the warmth, the feeling that he always got when she responded and leaned into him. One long breath of life in all the darkness that seemed to surround them. Finally he pulled back, smiling down at the quarian in his arms.

"This is what's important."

* * *

><p><em>Hello to you all, I know it's been some time. As with all things I try to fit in time to write, usually life disagrees. But I was determined to get something done before the holidays arrived. As always, I hope you enjoyed. I'll hopefully have the chapter up on my website soon and as always feel free to stop by the forums and drop me a line.<br>_

_Merry Christmas to all. May you receive all the quarians, mass accelerators, and pet fishdogs your heart desires. _


	32. Chapter 31: Old Soldiers

Chapter 31: Old Soldiers

"Keep trying it! C'mon, you ugly son of a bitch!"

Vega lashed out with a vicious kick that sent the creature staggering backwards before emptying the remainder of his magazine into its face. With a final twitch it collapsed with a heavy thump at his feet. The last of them made a gurgling sound but was stopped in its tracks when a bright lance of fire sliced through its torso.

"They are mindless automatons. Your taunting is pointless," Javik said as he stepped over the corpse of the fallen thing, firing another quick blast into its head to ensure its demise.

"Yea, you say that. But I'm pretty sure this one looked pissed off before I turned it into hamburger," he replied.

"I highly doubt this."

"Based on what, your extensive experience fighting squid-faced zombies?" Vega shot back.

"Based upon my experience as a sapient being that was waging war before your kind had evolved beyond painting on the walls of caves with the extracts of fruit and your own bodily fluids."

"You're a real asshole sometimes, you know that Javik?"

The prothean looked at him, his quartet of eyes blinking once, slowly. His response as deadpan as always.

"Yes."

Vega shook his head and scanned the immediate area. It was littered with the corpses of half a dozen more of the strange husk-like creatures that had assaulted them within the first few hours of boarding Omega. His team had expected a firefight with Cerberus forces, not these fast and deadly cybernetic monstrosities, and as a result initial casualties had been severe.

There hadn't been time to dwell on the losses, however. The most frightening aspect of their new enemies was their ability to convert others to their cause. He had watched in horror as one of his fallen soldiers had seemed to come back to life, only to warp and change before his eyes. Muscle and bone had distended and the man's skin had blanched to that same dull gray tone shared by all the creatures.

After that they had adapted to the grim duty of ensuring none of their fellow soldiers came back as one of the enemy. To say it was hard on morale was an understatement. It had been Javik that had forced a change of perspective, snapping at the collected soldiers: instead of feeling 'useless guilt' at their necessary executions, they should feel anger and rage… and direct it at their enemy.

To his right a soldier pulled their side arm and emptied the magazine into the head of the fallen adjutant at his feet, leaving only a sticky smear behind. There was no question they had taken the alien soldier's urgings to heart.

"They will not attack this position again," Javik declared suddenly.

"What makes you think that?" James asked. "They managed to break through and we lost a man. We just don't have enough material to completely seal this corridor off."

The prothean gestured to their makeshift barricade already being repaired.

"The creatures have made two separate assaults at this barricade. On both occasions we were able to respond to the incursion in less than ninety seconds. The barricade will not keep them out indefinitely, but the narrow terrain will prevent deep penetration. It is a false weakness."

Vega kicked the headless corpse at his feet.

"And these things are going to recognize that?"

"Yes. They are not mindless. They have attacked our defenses at different positions and times. We are being tested, like a gnarsrick pack harrying its prey."

"No idea what a gnarsrick is, but hopefully we won't be here to be tested much longer. We've been held up here for two days. If everything is on schedule we're making the first push tomorrow."

Javik nodded.

"Good. I grow tired of waiting."

"Makes two of us, Eyeballs," Vega replied. "I hate all this standing around. I wonder what the hell Miranda and her guys are up to?"

* * *

><p>"This cannot be happening!" Carmichael yelled.<p>

"Oh, it's happening, Newbie," Jack said, smiling viciously. "And you're just going to have to sit there and watch."

Nyreen shook her head, mandibles quivering in mirth.

"You've got to know when to pull out."

Zaeed dropped the final card from his hand, creating a perfect fan of cards in front of him all with matching suits. Across the table Carmichael simply dropped his head into his hands and sighed while the grizzled mercenary raked the pile of chips from the pot into his already considerable pile.

"That's what… sixty thousand credits you owe me now, Kid?" the mercenary asked.

"Seventy thousand, four hundred and ten," Carmichael corrected glumly. "Which at least isn't quite twice the yearly average salary for a second lieutenant. Quite."

Just before the Reaper invasion seventy thousand credits would have been almost exactly one hundred and forty-three percent of a junior lieutenant's salary as far as Miranda remembered. It was an odd number to recall, but like most things once it was in her head she rarely forgot.

Around the hexagonal table was the majority of the team that had landed, or more accurately crashed, on Omega. Zaeed was the clear chip leader in what must have been a long game of Skyllian Five. Next to him, Jack's pile looked almost non-existent, but if she had to guess the ex-con wasn't playing with anything approaching a strategy. Their out of his element pilot was by far the worst off, though, as only half a dozen chips sat in front of him.

She was more surprised to see Nyreen present. The turian female hadn't exactly been overjoyed at their presence, but there she was, with a collection of chips nearly the size of Zaeed's. Miranda suspected their efforts the previous day had helped change her perspective somewhat. She and the others had left Aria to brood in the command center and done what they could to assist the various mercenaries and drafted citizens that made up Nyreen's Talons: shoring up defenses, minor medical aid, and even repelling an incursion by a pack of adjutants. It wasn't much, but it had appeared to at least make the other Talon's feel like they had finally received reinforcements.

"Aw, c'mon. I'm sure a pretty young thing like you can earn that back. Especially on Omega," Jack suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

"She has a point. I heard there's a couple of Blood Pack heavy hitters that actually have a thing for humans," Nyreen mused, kicking her feet up on the table and leaning back.

"I am not getting bent over-"

Carmichael cut himself off when he stood and turned, noticing her watching from the doorway.

"Ah… ma'am," he finished lamely.

She ignored the embarrassed pilot and looked to Nyreen.

"I thought you'd like to know that I was able to access the internal defense system with Aria's help. We should be able to bring it online within the hour. The program I installed should be able to key into the Talons' encrypted channel to provide the IFF system the necessary data. Once it finishes compiling you'll have control of the bunker defenses."

"Aria actually let you do that?" Nyreen asked.

"Despite what she would like to believe, Aria T'lok is not in charge of this operation. I am. The Talons are the ones that have been keeping this portion of Omega secure. It only makes sense that your people should manage the continued defense. If you were going to betray us you would have already."

The turian nodded slowly.

"When you first showed up with her I thought you were just another one of Aria's patsies. You'd be amazed how good she is at getting powerful people to do her dirty work. I figured Shepard and his people wouldn't be any different. Aria's always the spider; everyone else is just stuck in her web."

"Ha!" Zaeed barked out as he slowly stacked his chips. "Last spider that tried to catch Shepard in a web got pounded harder than an asari call girl. Garrus told me poor bastard looked like he'd gotten run over by an M-35."

Nyreen's mandibles flexed for a moment, clearly nonplussed.

"Colorful," she said finally. "I would watch your back either way, Lawson. Aria doesn't take it well when people don't do what she wants. They tend to wind up with knives in their backs."

Miranda exchanged a glance with Jack before giving the turian woman a thin smile.

"I'm certain we'll be able to handle things. For now we have to concentrate on securing this station. Assuming you're done helping an already wealthy mercenary fleece a green flight lieutenant?"

"They're too damn good," Carmichael muttered.

"You do realize that turians have a greatly enhanced sense of smell compared to humans?" Miranda asked. "Unless you're an extremely practiced player she can literally smell when you're bluffing."

The younger man blinked and looked at Nyreen in shock. For her part the turian merely shrugged, looking satisfied with herself. Carmichael jabbed a finger at Zaeed.

"But… what about him?"

"Simple. He cheats."

"I never cheat!" the mercenary protested.

"And that's why your omni-tool is connected to the internal sensors?"

"That's not cheating… that's called a tactical advantage. Next time we should try strip poker, but only if Lawson plays."

Zaeed grinned and stood with his pile of chips, slapping Carmichael on the shoulder as he walked out of the room chuckling to himself.

The lieutenant stared after him, dumbfounded.

"That son of a bitch."

"That he is," Miranda agreed wryly.

It didn't take long to assemble the various members of their small team. Even with the assistance they had rendered to the Talons it had been entirely too much downtime for a squad that wasn't used to the lull. Miranda considered it a minor miracle that Jack hadn't started a single fight. It was a possibility, a slim one, that the ex-con had actually matured.

The briefing room at the heart of the bunker was impressive enough to give the war room aboard the Normandy a run for its money. A massive holo projection of Omega hung in the air at the center of the room. Every corridor, access shaft, and bolt hole appeared on the image each highlighted to indicate areas controlled by Cerberus forces, the few locations under Talon control, and the remainder of the station that was little more than an urban wilderness stalked by the adjutants.

"Looks like you've got every inch of this station wired," Zaeed grunted from his position leaning against the railing.

"Omega has always been mine. Petrovsky's temporary coup was just that… temporary," Aria said coldly.

Nyreen gave a raspy laugh and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Funny, it looked more like you got outsmarted and high-tailed it to save your own ass."

The asari's eyes flashed and Miranda could easily see her muscles coil like a snake preparing to strike. For her part, Kandros looked deceptively calm. Miranda credited her time aboard of the Normandy interacting with Garrus for noticing the way that the woman's talons continued to flex almost imperceptibly.

"Now you're Omega's patron saint? Don't make me laugh," Aria hissed. "I remember you liked-"

"Enough!"

Miranda punctuated her statement with a burst of the slightest amount of biotic energy, causing all eyes to snap to her. For a split second the anger in Aria's eyes focused on her. A tiny crack in the Omega's queen usually flawless mask that revealed something truly vicious beneath. To the thugs, politicians, and sycophants that Aria usually dealt with such a look was likely enough to reduce them to stammering wrecks. Those people had never met the Illusive Man's icy blue eyes.

"Have you forgotten that this is not about settling your personal vendettas?" she snapped. "We are fighting a losing war. Every moment of every day our species grow one step closer to extinction while you worry about old grudges!"

To her credit Nyreen immediately snapped to attention while Aria merely smoldered in anger.

"You're right. Omega's citizens are my priority," the turian agreed.

"At least not all of the primitives of this cycle are oblivious to their approaching doom."

Javik's comment dripped with sarcasm even through the occasional bursts of static in the holo-transmission. A small representation of both the prothean and James Vega hovered on the secondary display to the right of the main viewer.

"Then let's get down to business," Aria said coolly.

* * *

><p>These people were all a little insane.<p>

That was the only logical conclusion Thomas C. Carmichael, Flight Lieutenant in the Systems Alliance Navy, could come to. It was a group of personalities that he had expected to see on some reality holo-program or years from now in a history vid about the war, full of 'facts' that later generations would always assume were exaggerated. Real people couldn't possible do the things they talked about in those vids.

It wasn't as if he was unaware of the enormity of the war. He had joined up as soon as the war had begun, his private pilot license putting him on the fast track to what passed for a flight school among the remnants of the Alliance fleets. In the months since, he had proven to be an excellent pilot, making landings in hot zones under fire from towering Reapers and their horrific footsoldiers. But he was not a marine; he'd fired the Avenger assault rifle stowed in the cockpit all of once since his initial training.

Until two days ago, that was. Suddenly everything was different. He had survived a crash landing with people that had served with none other than Commander Shepard, fought through a station filled with freakish monsters, and then was drafted into a mission to secure the entire station. A far sight from flying soldiers into combat, even if it usually was under fire.

Now he found himself gripping that same rarely used assault rifle tightly as he moved down a barely lit corridor deep inside Omega. His former lightly armored flight suit had been replaced by a vastly superior combat armor courtesy of the Talons. And all of this while walking next to Zaeed Massani, a name that every colony kid that ever dreamed of being an adventurous mercenary had heard for the past twenty years.

"Proper armor feels better, don't it?" the older man asked, breaking Carmichael out of his musings.

He shifted from foot to foot, adjusting the fit.

"Mostly it feels heavier."

"Should, means it'll keep your ass alive. Kinetic barriers are great, but a quarter inch of steel coated in ballistic polymer will keep all of your guts in the right place when someone gets a lucky shot off," Zaeed explained, thumping the scarred metal over his own chest.

"That's good… I like my guts where they are," he said and glanced at the rifle in Zaeed's hands, finally working up the courage to ask a question that had been bugging him. "What's up with that rifle anyways? I'd figure a famous mercenary would be able afford something better than this Alliance standard issue stuff."

Massani's expression went through a complicated series of emotions. For a brief second it looked almost offended, which immediately sent a jolt of adrenaline through Carmichael's blood stream. Then it morphed into amusement before finally drifting into something that actually looked like… happiness. It wasn't an expression that looked natural on his weathered face.

"You just had to asking about the fucking rifle," Jack groaned.

"Her name is Jessie. Best damn rifle any man ever had, and she's not standard issue. Least not anymore," the mercenary said, voice thick with pride as he held the weapon out like one might display a prized pet.

The gun was covered in scratches and the lettering on the barrel shroud had long since been worn away by armored hands. Only the shinier areas where the metal had been burnished by constant wear were really distinct from the overall matte finish. The most generous descriptor that Carmichael could think of would be to say that it had 'character'. Zaeed, though, was oblivious to his skeptical look.

"Same frame as the M-8s, but underneath the guts are pure M-7. None of these damn thermal magazines everyone loves so much these days. She's hard as nails and she'll put rounds down range as long as your hands can squeeze the trigger, accurate on the thousandth round as she is on the first..."

"Goddess, Massani. It's a rifle," Aria snapped irritably over her shoulder. "For a man with your reputation such a sentimental attachment is… disappointing."

The older man fixed her with a glare from his one good eye.

"She's a partner, the one thing a man can rely on when everything else goes to hell. A man's gun will never stab him in the back to get a bigger share. Or try to take him to bed so she can roll him in the morning for his credits. You'd know all about that, right?"

Aria made a rude gesture that Zaeed immediately returned before turning her attention forward once more. They were making their way through one of the unmapped tunnels that led away from the bunker. Each junction was sealed with heavy doors that had thus far kept out any roaming adjutants. Once they reached the exit point the plan was to activate the automatic defenses and use the ensuing chaos to hopefully escape notice by both Cerberus and the adjutants.

"Long story short, the man loves his fucking rifle," Jack added. "I should know. Get some alcohol in him and it actually gets worse. Only time I ever wished I was back in cryo was having to listen to this old bastard drone on about that gun."

"This is a goddamn piece of art," Zaeed insisted.

"Last time I was on the Normandy it was a non-functional piece of art," the ex-con countered. "Can't believe the fishbowl got it working again."

"Yea, Shepard's quarian is a little genius. Thought I'd finally hit a peak after I got to watch Vito get offed but she came through!"

"She should have made you empty your accounts to pay for it, you sentimental old man," Jack teased.

The mercenary chuckled and settled the rifle on his shoulder.

"Nah, just made me promise to stop asking Shepard if all quarians were as feisty in bed as the one I met a few years back. Bastard was always so tight lipped but I figured he'd spill eventually. Getting the old girl back was worth it, though… always said I'd give anything for one more mission with her."

Carmichael kept his mouth shut and kept walking as the pair spoke, doing his best to absorb all of the information without gawking like an idiot. In the space of five minutes he'd not only learned about the most prized possession of the galaxy most notoriously hard-hearted mercenary and bounty hunter but also had listened to the pair practically confirm one of the most salacious rumors from the extranet about Shepard having a relationship with his quarian crewmate.

His poker face apparently wasn't as perfect as he thought. The pilot turned infantryman felt a hard jab to his side, looking to see Jack staring at him. The look in her eyes was enough to make him forget all about the fact that there was an extremely good chance he was going to die in the next few hours.

"I see that stupid look on your face, fresh meat."

"I… uh.. look?"

"Yea, that 'oh shit' look people get when they hear some crap and then want to look all disinterested like they didn't even hear it. Get stabbed in the back enough and to learn to spot that shit," Jack said bluntly. "You're not one of those Terra Firma fucks that's going to lose their shit because you heard 'quarian' and 'Shepard' in the same sentence, right? Because if so I'm pretty sure if I fragged you here it wouldn't really hurt our chances on this mission too much."

He simply blinked, not sure how to respond. All the while warning sounds were going off in his mind telling him that there was a chance that the tattooed woman would actually kill him. There hadn't been too much about Jack in those exposé shows that pretty much every Alliance soldier had seen at some point… but what little there had been usually contained words like 'convicted murderer' and 'unstable'.

"Enough, Jack."

Miranda's voice made him realize that he had stopped walking and instead taken a step back against the wall.

"Simple question, Cheerleader. Of course you're Cerberus, so-"

"Ex-Cerberus," the dark-haired woman snapped and took a step forward. "And if you have to know, Thomas Carmichael is definitely not a member of Terra Firma. In fact, he's a registered member of the Progressive Expansion party, has voted against three Terra Firma candidates since turning eighteen, and dated an asari for… three months."

Fear had now changed to confusion. Or at least confused fear.

"How the hell did you know about that? That was like… four years ago! And it's not like I posted flyers!"

"As I just said, ex-Cerberus," she replied dryly and held up her omni-tool. "And while I might not work for them anymore I have no problems with using their information. I make it a point to know the people I'm working with, that includes the pilot of my shuttle."

The pilot sighed.

"Every time I think this mission can't get any weirder the universe proves me wrong."

"Learn to expect the unexpected, Mr. Carmichael. Come on, you've just earned your spot on point with me."

Zaeed chuckled once more, a not particularly nice sound.

"Away from the fury and into the arms of the ice queen. Nice work, kid."

Not about to be accused of failing to learn from his mistakes Carmichael didn't rise to the bait and instead stepped past Aria and Nyreen to take up a position at the front of their small column. They walked in silence for a time before, despite his better judgment, his curiosity got the better of him again.

"So… I was kind of wondering…"

Miranda gave an exasperated sigh.

"Yes?"

"Why did you bring on this mission? I'm like… barely qualified compared to the rest of you. An ex-military turian biotic, Zaeed freaking Massani? Aria T'Loak? That's not even counting you and er… Jack. You're all pretty much legends at this point."

"Legends?" Miranda asked, tone sounding almost amused.

"Well, I mean if you ask almost any soldier in the Alliance, Shepard is like… like the second coming of Christ meets Batman. First the Terra Nova incident, then the Battle of the Citadel. The crew of the original Normandy is the most well-known but after Shepard came back you couldn't turn on a news feed without some reporter trying to track him down."

He waved his free hand in a vague 'everywhere' direction, speaking excitedly.

"Whenever someone got a new image or news report people went nuts trying to find out who it was that had been seen with Shepard. There were entire extranet boards dedicated to trying to dig up info on everyone. I saw a mugshot of Jack, actually. Nobody could really find anything on you. One of the big theories was that you were Shepard's intelligence handler and that you two were an item…"

"We were what?"

He stumbled under the sudden ice glare directed at him.

"Ah… just an extranet rumor. You know how people are on forums," Carmichael coughed, rapidly changing the subject. "The point is if you asked anyone from the pilots to the marines to the grease monkeys they'd say that you were all nine foot tall immortals with wings."

"If only it was that simple," Miranda said absently.

"I get it, you're not actually supernatural warriors or anything. But compared to me? I'm a pretty tiny fish in a really, really big pond. Like… massive pond."

Her response came with a barely perceptible shrug, as if the decision to include him was as normal as putting on one's shoes at the start of the day.

"It's very simple. Your basic training scores were better than average, marksmanship especially. After the crash you performed surprisingly well under stress despite your lack of actual experience. Most importantly every piece of information I have indicates that you are extremely loyal to the Alliance."

"Of course I'm loyal to the Alliance!" he replied incredulously, quickly lowering his voice before continuing. "Why would I not be loyal to the Alliance? We're fighting a war against the genocidal robotic spaceships. It's not like we have to pay economic repercussions or learn a new language if we lose. We lose and everyone is dead."

"Exactly my point. It doesn't even occur to you to look for some personal advantage. Do you think Aria is here because of the war effort?"

"She's just as dead as the rest of us if we lose the war."

She gave him a look, the quiet exasperation now mixed with bemusement.

"I'd forgotten how the blissfully ignorant go through life. To certain people power is a drug, stronger than any dose of red sand. They'll do anything to obtain it. Once they have it they can't survive without it… no matter what the consequences are."

"That's insane," he replied, glancing back worriedly.

"Now you know why you're here, Lieutenant. In some situations loyalty is more valuable than expertise. Everything I have here says you're capable and uncomplicated. That means I shouldn't have to worry about you shooting anyone in the back."

"I guess it's nice to be appreciated for my banality."

That actually earned him a faint quirk of a lip before Miranda's expression lapsed back into the same dispassionate stare he'd seen for the last few days. All in all he considered it a minor victory. Under normal circumstances most men would have been happy to wind up in his situation. Not one but three beautiful women, high stress situations… it was like a holo-vid written by the same hack that had directed _Citadel_.

What that particular director had apparently not realized that beautiful did not equate to friendly. Aria T'loak was an infamous criminal overlord. Rumor had it that the 'Pirate Queen of Omega' was responsible for more deaths than the entire First Contact War. She had said barely a dozen words to him since their ill-fated landing. Something told him that it could have been worse.

That left Miranda and Jack. Of the two Jack was technically the most friendly, but he was quickly coming to realize that the tattooed woman's friendliness was a razor edged thing, one that could very likely be plenty dangerous on its own. She'd been the one that had insisted he join into their impromptu skyllian five game after all.

"We're here," Miranda said, causing him to skid to a halt.

Ahead was a continuing corridor, :the same tarnished, dirty metal that had marked the entire stretch of the tunnels. The only distinguishing feature was a round access hatch on the ceiling and indentions in the wall itself to use as footholds to reach it. Miranda activated her omni-tool, bathing them in an orange glow.

"This is Hammer Actual, we are in position. What's your status, Anvil?"

"In position and ready to get to work," a voice responded over the comms a few seconds later. "Cerberus forces on alert, but they're keeping their heads down."

"Copy that. Activating stage two in thirty seconds."

"Party time."

He heard Jack chuckling behind him.

"I like where Vega's heads at."

"Let's hope he keeps it on this mission. Nyreen, are we ready?" Miranda asked.

The turian nodded, her own omni-tool flaring to life.

"Bringing the auto-turrets online now. Bunker One… active. Bunker Two… active. Bunker Three… active. Wait… Bunker Four. Bunker Five? Bunker Six? What the hell? I only knew of three but I've got six defense systems that just activated."

"Guess I forgot to mention those," Aria said nonchalantly.

"Forgot to mention them?" Nyreen snapped. "Those auto-guns punch through military barriers like its glass! If there are any civilians nearby they'll get shredded before they can even react!"

"And any Cerberus forces will be just as surprised, along with adjutants that might be in the area. The confusion will disrupt Petrovsky's forces even more. Leaving us with easier access to the station core."

The turian woman's voice was a sibilant whisper.

"We could have sent squads out to secure the perimeters, warned the civilians away!"

"And led Cerberus straight to the other bunkers, just like you did with the other three? Now they won't know where is safe and where isn't. The first squad that stumbles into one of those hot zones will get dropped before they can even radio a mayday," Aria replied, a dark smile on her features. "You've been playing guerilla with Cerberus for months now. Time to learn how it's really done."

Miranda stepped between the two women for the second time in so many hours.

"We don't have time for this. Nyreen, no matter what course of action we take there are going to be civilian casualties. They could have been minimized with forewarning… but it's too late for that now. We have to move. The auto-targeting systems should trigger any second."

As if on cue Nyreen's omni-tool began to bleat ominously, a monotone warning coming a moment later.

"Hostile targets detected. Initiating defensive protocols."

Carmichael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them he found Miranda giving him a level stare.

"Are you ready, Soldier?"

"Yes, ma'am."

And the discussion was over. Nyreen activated the escape hatch and pulled herself out. In the distance he could already hear the staccato report of the autoguns coming to life. With a pounding heart he let the rifle drop to hang by its sling and scrambled after the turian woman.

* * *

><p>Panicked cries and a thunderous storm of weapons fire signaled that the defensive turrets had come online. It was music to Vega's ears. He looked back at the assembled marines and pumped his fist.<p>

"Anvil Actual to all squads! Go go go!"

Like an armored tide, dozens of Alliance soldiers emerged from cover and surged towards the Cerberus fortifications.

"I hope these damn IFF updates work on those autoguns!" he yelled to Javik as he ran.

"If they do not, it will be a very short offensive," the prothean replied calmly.

Javik punctuated his statement with a shot from his particle rifle, catching one of the Cerberus troopers that had managed to actually maintain his composure in the throat. Others were finally catching on to the new threat, and scattered fire streaked out from the barricades. Around him flashes of bright blue sparkled like fireworks as rounds impacted against kinetic barriers.

Petrovsky had dedicated a significant amount of his forces to securing Aria's various bunkers around Omega, rightly assuming that if the Talon's were able to gain access it would only further fuel their resistance movement. Nyreen's base of operations represented the one area that the Cerberus general simply didn't have the manpower to crack. Even without the automated defenses that were now active it was located too deeply in territory overrun by adjutants.

What better way to gain Cerberus' attention, then, than to uproot them from their heaviest strongholds outside the so called 'safe' zones that the majority of the station's civilians were restricted to?

"Atlas!"

The worried yell from one of the lead marines was punctuated by the mechanized soldier unleashing a volley of rockets at the nearest automated turret. A brilliant explosion left only a warped pile of scrap behind while the other automated gun hammered away at the Atlas' layered kinetic barriers.

Vega slapped the marine on the back and gestured to his right, barking out orders.

"Keep moving! Designated marksman, target the intakes on its back. Provide cover fire for your heavy guns and don't let it get a bead on you!"

"Sir!" the marine replied.

Fire lit up the vehicle's flank while its pilot dispatched the remaining turret. The pilot seemed unconcerned at the volume of fire, standard assault rifle rounds were like throwing darts at an enraged varren when it came to the Atlas, but that quickly changed with the loud boom of an anti-material rifle joined the higher pitched chorus of rifle rounds. The heavy round punched through the Atlas' barriers and gouged out a chunk of armored viewscreen.

"Get down!" Javik yelled, catching him in a full tackle.

A heartbeat later a long burst of fire ripped through the air where he'd been standing. Another soldier wasn't nearly so lucky, his spun by the impact of the high velocity rounds before crumpling to the floor. To his left a second Atlas mech stomped into view.

"Where the hell did they hide two of those fucking things?" Vega snarled, firing off a burst from his own weapon in the second Atlas' direction.

"Our enemy anticipated an assault," Javik replied. "The machines were likely concealed within transport pods that have been sensor dampened."

Both men rolled to their feet in time to see an explosion tear through the ranks of the soldiers trying to bring the original Atlas down. Dropping into a crouch they took what cover they could behind a power generator. Marines were trying to keep their heads down, but inside the barricades that Cerberus had erected there was little cover and with the pair of assault mechs they were quickly being boxed in.

"_Mierda_," James hissed and triggered his comm channel. "All Anvil squads, focus fire on the primary Atlas and bring it down!"

"Leaving the remaining mech for us?" the prothean questioned.

"Exactly. Shepard has apparently taken one out solo. One jarhead and a biotic prothean warrior should make it easy, eh?"

"Your confidence is admirable. Likely the misguided hubris of an underdeveloped species that has evolved to believe in their own invincibility in the face of certain death. But admirable. The machine's exposed intake is a poorly protected weakness. A proper application of biotic force should cause it to detonate."

He sighed and slapped a fresh magazine into his weapon, giving Javik a look.

"This means the monkey gets to be the distraction."

"It is a task for which you are singularly evolved," the prothean replied.

"Great."

Another burst of fire raked their makeshift cover, sending a shower of sparks shooting into the air as the rounds tore apart the generator's internal mechanisms. Vega clenched his jaw and leapt from behind their cover, giving the trigger of his machine gun a long pull. Rounds tracked up the Atlas' body as the recoil carried the barrel into the air. His drill instructor would have been furious at his lack of firing discipline but then he wasn't exactly going for accuracy.

"Take a good look, you terrorist fuck!" Vega yelled and fired off another burst.

He could already see Javik running at the corner of his vision. The prothean wouldn't need long to get into position, but the Atlas' spinning chaingun that was quickly lining up on him wasn't exactly playing into his timetable. Javik said keep its attention… he'd never had a problem getting attention before. When in doubt, do the unexpected.

So he charged. Running at full speed toward the Atlas he could see the pilot inside jerking the controls to bring the mech's main weapon back into line, all while the mech's barriers took a constant barrage of fire from Vega's machinegun and the other nearby soldiers that had turned their attention to the armored titan. The whirr of the Atlas' chaingun spinning up was his cue that he was out of time.

"Man… I hope this works," he muttered and activated the subroutine on his omni-tool listed as 'Grunt'.

The burst of fire was timed perfectly with the flash of light from his barrier generator as it sucked power from virtually every other system in his armor and dumped into all into the shield emitters at once. For a brief few seconds the marine was seemingly encased in glowing white light. The long trail of fire from the Atlas' weapon impacted against his augmented barriers like a wave crashing into a rocky shore.

It still hurt like hell, though. The barriers dissipated and spread out the force of the impacts but to Vega it was still like being pelted with a hundred baseballs thrown by the fastest pitchers in the national league. Unable to keep his feet under the battering he instead dropped into a roll, sliding across the tarnished deck plating.

The glow faded and red warning lights flashed across Vega's HUD. His shield emitters were fried, repeating the same mournful sound that told him that his only protection now were the ballistic plates of his armor. He felt the vibrations through the deck plating as the Atlas took a step closer: it loomed over him, bringing the spinning chaingun to bear.

He met the glowing eyes of the Cerberus soldier behind the viewscreen and barked out a laugh.

"Not this time, _Cabron_."

Vega reached down and yanked the shotgun from where it rested on his hip, activating it in the same motion. He leveled the weapon directly at the Atlas' cockpit and pre-loaded the chamber, one of those tricks he'd picked up from Shepard's crew of misfits, and fired a massive blast that was enough to stagger even the mech's heavy frame for a second.

A second was all Javik needed. Behind the Atlas, his prothean ally rose, wreathed in crackling biotic energy. Either by some innate sense or a warning from the mech itself the pilot within must have sensed the danger, but it was far too late. A torrent of dark energy lashed out from the prothean warrior, slamming into the Atlas' exposed reactor intake and easily shattering its weakened barriers in the process. The screams of tortured metal filled his ears as the mech staggered forward from a secondary explosion within its frame.

Vega had barely managed to roll aside before it collapsed forward in a ruined heap. He looked over his shoulder to quickly assess the progress of the battle only to find it mostly over. The other Atlas was slumped backwards, the cockpit shattered and covered in blood. A few feet away Javik landed with far more grace than he had and moved to stand over his fallen form. Much to his surprise the prothean extended a hand.

He took the offered aid and exchanged a simple nod of acknowledgment with Javik. For once he didn't really have anything to say. Instead he turned back to the rest of his men. Medics were already moving to tend the wounded and the others had raised to rifles skyward in victory. Behind him he heard the sound of cracking glass.

A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a battered Cerberus trooper crawling out of the Atlas' shattered cockpit. The man never even made it to his feet. Without turning Javik drew his sidearm and fired a single shot. The trooper slumped to the ground. Vega nodded once more and activated his comms.

"Anvil Actual to Hammer. Bunker is secure. We've kicked the hornet's nest… it's all you now."

He received the acknowledgment almost immediately. Vega smirked and looked at the gathered soldiers.

"Alright you grunts! We kicked Cerberus out of his patch of land, are we just going to give it back? Set up a defensive perimeter! Charlie Squad, crack open the bunker; rearm everyone. We've got fifteen, _max_, before Cerberus sends a response!"

"Yes, sir!"

They'd just played the warm up game. Now it was time for the playoffs.

* * *

><p>Exhale, squeeze, release. Exhale, squeeze, release. Each repetition was the same, the mechanical sounds of the rifle operating and the flash of the muzzle, recoil pushing back against his shoulder. Carmichael fired another burst into the nearest adjutant, finally catching it in the head, and did his best to ignore his pounding heartbeat.<p>

"You've got it down, kid. Half second bursts, track your targets. Time your reloads for when they drop," Zaeed's gravely voice instructed beside him.

The mercenary's own bursts of fire were more precise, tightly grouped, but to Carmichael's surprise he was getting it. Even as the adjutant collapsed into a heap, one hand left the foregrip of his rifle, pulling a fresh thermal clip from his belt and ejecting the spent one. The first few times he'd fumbled to slot the magazine in place; this time it slid home perfectly. His M8 hissed for a moment before his ammo readout sprang back up to full.

Zaeed fired again, one burst at the last adjutant's left knee to send it to the ground. The next turned its head into a pulp. His scarred face was twisted into a grin as he lowered the rifle, patting its frame like a beloved pet. If Carmichael didn't know better he'd think that the mercenary was enjoying this.

"Clear!"

"Clear," Miranda replied more quietly, followed by an echo from Aria and Nyreen.

Around them lay the corpses of over a dozen adjutants, dark ichor staining the rocky floor. They were deep within Omega's core now, into the area of the original construction where the station's power source was housed. The entire thing was a rat nest of tunnels and dead ends, but Aria appeared to know exactly where she was going. When the attack had come it had been sudden and nearly overwhelming, adjutants rushing them as soon as they reached one of the many intersections within the station.

"These things shouldn't have been here. No civilians in these tunnels," Aria said, pumping a few rounds into one of the creatures that was still twitching. "There are failsafe bulkheads all through the old mining network that always remain locked."

"Unless someone with control of the station's computer system released the locks. Oleg Petrovsky is a pragmatist. He can't control the adjutants directly but he can direct their movement by forcing them in our direction," Miranda replied grimly.

Nyreen's talons flexed in agitation.

"Meaning we're going to have more of these things on the way?"

"Probably," Miranda agreed. "We need to get to the reactor. How much farther, Aria?"

"Not far. Half a klick of tunnels left and then we'll have our hands wrapped around Omega's heart."

A long, warbling groan echoed throughout the tunnel. First one and then others. Jack looked around and shrugged.

"Sounds like it's time to run our asses off."

No one argued. The final stretch was taken at a barely controlled run, it seemed no one was interested in fighting more of the things in close quarters. They all knew how just how dangerous the adjutants could be. He'd watched in horror as one of the fallen Talon's hard begun to warp before his eyes when they'd helped secure the bunker the day before. It was a fate Carmichael didn't wanted to consider.

The pilot didn't know if the others worried about the same things he did; seeing them in action hadn't done a great deal to dissuade him from their status as walking legends. Each of them moved with precision, purpose in every step. All three of the biotics seemed to routinely perform feats that he'd always thought were the providence of action holos. And Zaeed, with no biotics to speak of, more than kept the pace.

So far, he at least had managed not to screw up. Carmichael could feel the fatigue hiding beneath the flood of adrenaline in his system, but he refused to let it affect him. He wasn't going to be the one that slowed them down. As long as he could continue to ignore the aching in his muscles at least.

Finally they rounded a corner and found themselves in a much larger room that hummed with the sound of machinery. The cylindrical cavern stretched upward while the area immediately around them seemed to be the control room. Tarnished steel replaced dark brown stone and numerous consoles glowed with life.

He blinked and looked up to see a massive power generator. It had to have been at least ten stories tall, built directly into the asteroid itself.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

Aria looked over her shoulder at him and smirked.

"What did you expect? This station is over forty kilometers long; the mass effect field generators to create the artificial gravity and deflect any stray asteroids in the field use more power than an asari dreadnought… and they're usually only running at a third of max power."

"Yea, big fuck'n reactor, got it. Now what? Those things aren't going to wait for us to make up our minds about what we're doing," Jack growled.

"Don't worry, now it's just a matter of taking back control from the source," Aria said with a roll of her eyes. "Cover me and I'll hack into the main power systems."

"Zaeed, Carmichael, Jack. Cover the entrance. I'm going to try accessing the station systems through another of the terminals to speed up the process," Miranda ordered.

The mercenary grunted while Jack replied with her characteristic rude gesture, but that was apparently par for the course as everyone moved into position. Carmichael took a moment to check his ammo stores, finding half a dozen magazines left, and grimacing. Based on some quick mental math he'd already burned through over half his ammo

"Don't tell me you've blown your load already, kid," Jack said behind him.

"I've got six left, plus a full one in the rifle," he snapped back irritably. "And I'm not a damn kid."

He'd spoken without thought, nerves feeling suddenly frayed as the adrenaline left his system. Looking back he half expected to turn just in time to catch a biotically assisted punch to the face from Jack, but instead the tattooed woman was merely smirking at him.

"Guess not. But when you've been doing the shit we have everyone seems like a kid."

"You're all goddam kids," Zaeed said, spitting on the ground and keeping his gaze fixed towards the entrance to the generator room. "I've got bottles of whiskey older than both of you."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Fuck, don't apologize now. I was just starting to like you," Jack shot back.

Carmichael sighed and tried to rub the bridge of his nose, only to remember he was wearing a helmet. If he wasn't constantly worrying about dying the entire situation might have been hilarious. Unfortunately the low groaning sound of the approaching adjutants was like a bucket of ice water on any humor he had. He didn't know how the rest of them managed to stay so level headed.

"Look alive, kid. We're about to have company," Zaeed said. "Wish we'd brought the damn bug. Even if it is ugly as hell."

"That bug is the only reason the rest of Spear squad was able to take their objective," Miranda said over her shoulder, fingers flying across the holographic keyboard. "Ashley's confirmation said that there were two Atlas mechs waiting at their bunker as well. She and Liara took one down, Sings-Fury actually took the other apart by itself."

"Yeah, well Spear isn't trapped in a confined space about to be filled with a bunch of fucking squid-faced husks."

"We're almost in."

"Hope so, Princess, cause our friends just arrived for the party," Jack shot back.

The first of the adjutants cleared the tunnel in a loping run, followed by half a dozen more. From the sound of things there were plenty more on the way. The heartbeat that had finally steadied suddenly pounded loudly in Carmichael's ears as he raised his weapon and fired. His burst was long, the recoil stitching a line from the creature's thigh to head.

"Keep it together!" Zaeed barked. "Long as we keep them in the killzone we can keep them in check!"

"On it," he replied through gritted teeth. He shifted to the left and braced himself against one of the consoles, using the flat surface as a rest for his gun to help steady his aim.

A shockwave of biotic energy from Jack bought them a few precious seconds, slamming into the lead adjutants and sending the others sprawling. Carmichael timed his shots to alternate with Zaeed, forcing himself to think of it just like one of the hundreds of video games he'd played growing up. Jack lashed out with another surge of energy, this time literally tearing one of the creatures in two with the blast.

"Anytime now, Cheerleader!" the biotic yelled.

A mere second later there was a loud humming sound followed by a resounding clang. It took a few heartbeats for him to realize that the entrance to the tunnels was closed, having slammed shut with sufficient force to sever an adjutant's arm that had been halfway through.

"Wow…" Carmichael said. "Thanks. That was really good timing."

"That wasn't me," Miranda said, voice tense.

He paused and slowly turned around, the source of the humming sound readily apparent. A glowing barrier divided the room into quarters along the edges of each console, shading everything on the other side of the barrier in the same bright orange. The pilot quickly realized that he was cut off from the others: the barrier in the center separated him from Miranda, Aria was trapped in another quadrant, while the other barrier terminated at the edge of the console that Zaeed, Jack, and Nyreen had been using for cover.

"If it wasn't you then who the fuck was it?" Jack demanded.

"Do not blame Operative Lawson for your current circumstances," a voice behind him said.

He found himself turning again, this time to see a half sized image of a man glowing on the console. The man in question was dark haired with a thick goatee that matched. His uniform appeared stiff and impeccable, prominently adorned with Cerberus' emblem.

"True, she has led you here and it is always a commander's responsibility to look after the welfare of those that serve them," the man continued. "But in this circumstance matters were outside of her control."

"What do you want, General?" Miranda asked.

That explained who they were dealing with. General Oleg Petrovsky, the commander of the Cerberus forces on Omega. That much had been in the briefing he'd received, now Carmichael wished he had paid more attention. Instead he'd simply assumed that he would be sitting in a boring yet comfortable cockpit waiting for their return.

"I would like to end this wasteful conflict, but I know you, Lawson. For all your talent and pragmatism you are stubborn. In many cases that has served you well," the general said, his voice conversational. "Shepard's resurrection shouldn't have been possible and anyone else would have given up… but now that stubbornness is a liability."

"What the hell are you on about, you wanker?" Zaeed growled.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of the Cerberus officer's mouth.

"Your actions have reduced this station to chaos and further depleted my forces… I applaud your efforts, I underestimated your strike team's capabilities in the absence of the famed Commander Shepard."

Petrovsky made a sweeping gesture with his hand, continuing to speak.

"I have made the decision as commanding officer that Omega is no longer a tenable position. The adjutant experiment is clearly out of hand and with the Alliance fleet present this location is too large of a target for the Reapers."

Miranda crossed her arms and fixed the hologram with an icy stare.

"Then surrender. You are not a man prone to martyrdom, General. You will be treated fairly as a prisoner of war."

"A generous offer, Operative Lawson. But not one I am ready to take. I have one for you instead. Place your weapons on the floor and remove the heatsinks. I will send a team to take you into custody," Petrovsky said, inclining his head at her. "Your own forces are too depleted to stage an effective military coup even with support from Kandros' Talons. If you agree I will provide safe passage to all non-essential personnel. Obviously yourself, Subject Zero, and a handful of others will have to remain in custody."

"What if we don't?" Carmichael heard himself ask.

The Cerberus officer's attention turned him and he saw a look of mild surprise. Petrovsky appeared to look away from the projector, likely at another screen, before speaking to the young pilot.

"Ah, Lieutenant Thomas Carmichael. A surprising choice on Operative Lawson's part… I would have expected her to consider you a liability. Yet here you are, instead of on the front lines of one of the Alliance's costly assaults on my fortifications. Interesting. As for the alternative it is quite simple. I have control of the barriers and door systems that are keeping the dozens of adjutants just outside from slaughtering each of you and warping your flesh into their disgusting form. If you do not agree to my terms I can simply disable those generous protections."

"Go f-" Jack began.

"General!" Miranda said loudly, cutting the convict off and ignoring the heated glower that was immediately directed at her. "You have been a great asset to Cerberus and a staunch defender of the human race, but you must see that Cerberus has become corrupted. Occupying Omega? And I can only assume these adjutant creatures are yet another experiment that has gone too far."

Petrovsky sighed.

"We all sabotage ourselves in various ways, Ms. Lawson. Perhaps mine is my loyalty to Cerberus, but I was given a mission and I am a soldier. I will carry that mission out to the best of my ability. I will ask you a final time, do you accept my offer of surrender? We both know that I cannot promise gentle treatment, but I assure you I will honor my agreement to allow your remaining forces safe withdrawal."

There was a long moment of silence that grew heavier with every passing second. Carmichael swallowed heavily, glancing back and forth between the opposing forces. Neither Petrovsky nor Miranda wavered until something odd happened. The dark haired woman glanced to her right at Jack and actually gave a faint smile.

"Then for once I think I can agree with Sub... with Jack," she said calmly. "Go fuck yourself."

Miranda slapped the console next to her and Petrovsky's hologram froze for half a second with an expression of surprise on his features before dissolving into static. The smile on Miranda's face disappeared immediately as she opened her omni-tool and turned to the nearby console.

"We don't have much time," she said. "I uploaded a small virus to the console while we were speaking. It will immediately self-replicate to fill all of the available system memory and assert itself as top resource priority."

"What does that mean to normal buggers?" Zaeed asked.

"It means I bought us a minute at most before Petrovsky can reassert control of the system and deactivate the barriers to allow the adjutants in. I've got that long to find a way to get us out of here."

He was doing his best not to panic, but as seconds ticked by Carmichael shifted from foot to foot. The shadow across the door seemed even more ominous that it had been before as the silence allowed the moans of the adjutants to carry through.

"I found the system root!" Aria replied. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong?" Miranda asked.

"The root only accepts commands from the main terminal. I have read access, but I can't make changes. The home terminal is… son of a bitch. It's his!"

He suddenly found himself subject to the asari's intense stare.

"W-What?"

"Carmichael, look at me!"

The pilot's attention snapped to Miranda.

"I need you to focus, take a deep breath, and do exactly as I say. Open the terminal behind you. I will walk you through the process."

He took a deep breath and turned to the terminal, activating the system and staring at the screen. Step by step Miranda guided him, her voice a constant, level tone. Rather than thinking about the pounding of the adjutants outside Carmichael focused on the sound of her voice. It was just like fixing his grandmother's extranet terminal. Follow the instructions, don't screw up.

"Anytime now," Aria hissed.

Nyreen clucked her tongue behind him.

"He screws up and we're just as dead, Aria."

"I think I got it!" he said when a new screen opened showing a simple, blinking command line.

"I've sent the command string to your omni-tool, enter it now," Miranda instructed.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, pausing only to double check his work. The pilot was about to hit enter when the terminal flickered and Petrovsky's image appeared once again. The older man's expression was still stern but he didn't look quite as collected as he had before.

"Wait! If you activate that command you will be killing thousands!"

Carmichael's finger stopped, hovering over the key.

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"You are accessing the station's entire power grid! The command Operative Lawson has provided will initiate a complete reset of the internal systems," the General explained in clipped tones. "By entering that command you will not merely disable the barriers around your current position but across the entire station!"

"I don't-"

Petrovsky made a sound of frustration.

"The barriers are currently the only thing protecting the civilian population under Cerberus control from the adjutants. A soon as you complete that command then those protections are gone. My troops will be forced to withdraw. Operative Lawson is using you to commit mass murder, Lieutenant!"

He looked over his shoulder, knowing it was the truth the moment he saw Miranda's face. There wasn't even a look of guilt there. It just looked more like resignation. She nodded slowly and spoke.

"General Petrovsky is correct. If you disable the station's power grid it will cause all of Cerberus barriers to go offline. It will take time for those barriers to be re-activated."

"We saw what those things can do! What they turn people into…"

"I know."

Carmichael stared at her, nonplussed.

"And you… you just don't care?"

"She was the Illusive Man's right hand, Lieutenant," Petrovsky interjected. "You do not rise to that position in an organization such as ours by virtue of mercy and kindness. Death is a commodity traded in freely by those in power."

Miranda took a step closer to the barrier, ignoring the Cerberus officer as she addressed him.

"You talked about legends, earlier, about us. Shepard. His crew."

"What does that have to do with any of this?" he snapped.

For the second time he saw the woman smile, but this time it was different. It wasn't amusement or even spite, but rather the same expression he remembered when someone was about to tell him something painful. The same look of a doctor delivering the news of a terminal illness to a patient.

"Because this is the reality, not the legend. Where you're standing right now is where all of your legends have stood before. Commander Shepard. Everyone in this room" she said quietly. "We have all condemned people, innocent people to death. Because we believed it was necessary to save the lives of many more. Because there was no other choice."

"There's always a choice…"

She nodded.

"You can give up... but if you do then all those that died on this station meant nothing. The mission we were sent here to complete fails. Very possibly the entire war that we are fighting for is lost. Because the actions we take effect the lives of millions. Billions."

"I am asking you to make a choice that you shouldn't have to," Miranda continued. "And for that I am sorry, Thomas."

"And I am trying to save the lives of civilians and the soldiers on this station, Lieutenant. I have read the same files Ms. Lawson has on you," Petrovsky countered. "You are an intelligent young man who understands the value of human life. You come from an honest family,: farmers and settlers of Eden Prime. People that would not want to see innocents die for the sake of one woman's stubborn refusal to yield."

Carmichael clenched his hands into fists and tried to still the shudders that were running through his body. He was being asked to decide the fate of thousands of people. Not just the dozen souls that he dropped into war zones, but women and children. How could people just decide if people lived and died at the push of a button?

His hands scratched at the edge of his helmet. It felt as if he was trapped in a tiny box, everything tightening around him until he couldn't breathe. Finally he found the release with frantic fingers and pulled it off of his head, bending over and sucking in a deep breath. The pilot looked up at Miranda desperately.

"How do you know? How do you know that it's worth it?"

Two responses came one after the other, but not from Miranda.

"It's math," Aria said coldly. "A thousand die, two thousand live. You make your bet and hope that you come out ahead."

The other came from Nyreen, simpler and much more somber.

"You don't."

After a few more moments Carmichael nodded, forcing himself to look at the holographic image of Petrovsky.

"Maybe you're right, General. It could all be for nothing."

To his credit the older man's expression didn't betray any hint of triumph.

"Heroes save lives, Lieutenant," the Cerberus officer assured him with a nod. "You can still lay down your arms and I can promise you safe passage from this station."

"I also learned something from that honest family of mine. My father always said that if I had a choice between right and easy I should never hesitate."

Carmichael reached out and pressed the final key on the command. Immediately the console cut out, barriers dropping and lights all plunging them into darkness in the seconds before the glowing red emergency lights sprang to life. Somewhere in those few seconds he found himself bent over the console, trying to throw up the stale rations he'd eaten for the last few days. And maybe everything else he'd ever eaten in his life.

He heard steps behind him but didn't look up until a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Forcing himself to stand upright the pilot saw Miranda give him a nod of encouragement in the dim red light.

"Now you know what heroes actually do. It was the right decision. Now grab your rifle and let's move. The power to the doors are out which means it won't take long for the adjutants to gain access. We have to be gone when they do."

"Just like that?" he asked, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand.

"Just like that," she said, the sympathetic expression he'd glimpsed a few moments before replaced by the same business as usual look. "We still have a mission to complete."

"This way," Aria said behind them. "We can force the door on the east side open, from there it's a straight shot to Afterlife."

Then everyone was moving while he fumbled to get his helmet back on, trying not to think of what was happening elsewhere on the station. He took up his position at the back while the biotics wrenched the door open. He looked to Zaeed next to him, the man casually holding his rifle.

"So what now?" he asked, not even sure what answer he was expecting.

Zaeed looked at him and shrugged.

"You keep on living. Until some random shit takes you out. Or if you get real lucky you find something worth kick'n the goddamn reaper in the balls for and you get to choose the time and place. Til then… you just keep on living."

Carmichael swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He'd keep on living. Because in the end it had to mean something. It couldn't all be for nothing.

* * *

><p><em>I'm still kicking! It has been an interesting few months but I hope you enjoyed the continuing adventures on Omega, with a little of a fresh POV. As always thank you for the reviews and support, feel free to drop me a line on my website as well just follow the link on my profile. I also took a look at the tropes page after having not paid attention for awhile and you guys have definitely been busy!<em>

_Until next time!_


	33. Chapter 32: Trust

Chapter 32: Trust

_The wind howls. It always howls. He knows that it isn't real__,__ but the mournful sound is chilling all the same._

_Shepard looks out at the endless plains of Rannoch. The swaying grass and reddish stone is coated in a thick layer of ash. Ancient rock formations are smashed by the skeletal remains of massive warships that dot the landscape. He looks up to see a sky filled with bright shooting stars streaking towards the earth… knowing that those 'stars' are the funeral pyres of a thousand ships._

"_I know you're there," he says._

_Saren laughs, the sound as harsh and grating as always. Footsteps crunch in the ash and gravel behind him until the turian's lean form appears beside him. _

_When he turns his head to look Shepard feels surprise for the first time. There is a brief moment when __he __almost doesn't recognize his old adversary. No gaping wound dominates the other man's face __but m__ore strikingly the arm that hangs at his side is purely turian. The cybernetic replacement, the wires and tubes that he remembered, were all gone._

"_You should know what a turian looks like, Shepard. You've spent enough time with that idiot Vakarian."_

"_What the hell do you want?" he snaps._

"_Rannoch looks more like Palaven than I would have expected. The soil isn't so reddish back home but still… beautiful in its own way. Or it would be if it wasn't covered in a thin film of death."_

_Saren reaches up and brushes one of the clumps of ash from the air, smearing it between the tips of his talons. _

"_I thought we were done playing this game after Utukku. You lost."_

"_Who said we were still playing the same game?"_

"_I'm through being tormented by illusions and lies," Shepard replies icily. "No matter how many times the Reapers want to make me believe all of this devastation is inevitable… I'm not going to stop fighting."_

"_That much is obvious," Saren says, snapping his talons against each other. "It's why you're still alive and I... I underestimated you."_

_He whirls on the turian, voice coming out as a growl._

"_Then why the hell are we here?"_

_Saren's reaction isn't what he expects, instead the turian's mandibles curl in amusement._

"_Because they underestimated you as well."_

_He takes a step back in confusion. None of it made any sense. Dreams he'd become accustom to, the nightmares that had tormented him for countless months. What they had never been was particularly subtle. His confusion only grows as his old nemesis continues to speak._

"_I can see it in your eyes, feel it really, Shepard. The will that has confounded__.__ In all their power__,__ there is arrogance. They are perfection given form, but even that perfection has cracks."_

"_What are you?"_

"_A memory. A ghost of a memory. The Reapers harvest, they absorb… they are salvation through destruction."_

_Saren's low chuckle is devoid of any humor._

"_My people believe that the spirits of our ancestors watch over hearth and home. Some say they impart wisdom in the darkest hours."_

"_And you're here to help me now?" Shepard asks, not bothering to restrain his sarcasm._

_A bright flash of light catches his eye and causes him to look up over the turian's shoulder. The circular prow of a quarian cruiser parts the clouds of ash in the distance, hurtling towards the planet below. It slams into the earth with a resounding impact and titanic explosion, the vibrations coursing through the ground beneath him in the moments that follow. _

"_A monster in the void of space that can slay a Reaper. Imagine it. The power of gods. I know you've asked yourself the same question. What could have that kind of power?"_

"_Leviathan…" Shepard mutters._

_The fireball of the fallen ship expands, glowing brighter and brighter as the ground shakes. The blast wave rushes across the open plains, incinerating all in its path._

"_You hunt it, but you understand nothing. They hunt as well. Searching the darkness for that which even they fear. Despite their supposedly emotionless souls. You'll find it in the dark and the cold. It hides there, but there is always a link, a thread..."_

"_I don't have time for cryptic!" he snaps, grabbing Saren's armored collar in his hand and forcing the turian to turn in his direction._

"_You don't have time at all, Shepard. They're close now. The cycle has repeated too many times. Eventually all things come to an end. But if you go into the darkness to find that which does not want to be found… will you be the hunter or the hunted?"_

_Shepard grinds his teeth in frustration._

"_Is this another trick, another lie? I don't know if__ there is__ really something of you left... the part that wanted to save the galaxy?"_

_The heat against his skin grows and the winds pick up. He can hear the roar of the blast approaching__,__ but Saren merely looks into the distance for a few long moments before finally turning his attention back to the man in front of him. The armor that covers Saren's body begins to blacken and peel._

_Saren's gaze locks with Shepard's as thin cracks spread across the turian's body. At the tips of his talons his form begins to disintegrate into ash. Saren's last words carry as a raspy whisper even as his form disappears in the roaring wind._

"_Neither do I."_

_Ashes slip through Shepard's fingers. The searing wall of fire washes over him._

* * *

><p>Shepard jerked awake. It was an all too familiar feeling after seemingly endless months of nightly torment. It was something he had hoped that had been left behind on Utukku. He forced himself to tale slow, measured breaths as he sat in the near darkness.<p>

"What's wrong?" Tali asked sleepily, stirring at his side.

He reached over to run a hand down her back, her pale gray skin illuminated only by the glow of the fish tank. The simply luxury of touch gave him more comfort than it had any right to. It was something he hoped that he'd never take for granted.

"Just dreams."

The silvery slits of her eyes opened a little further, though his caress made them narrow briefly once more. Never one to let him get away with distraction, though, Tali shifted and sat up in the bed next to him.

"Other people 'just' have dreams, John."

"You saying I'm weird?" he asked.

The quarian wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into his shoulder.

"Maybe a little."

He chuckled quietly.

"My mother always did say I was special."

Feeling his heart rate beginning to slow Shepard shifted until he was leaning back against the headboard, Tali settling in against him with an arm across his stomach.

"Have you heard from her?"

"No, not directly at least," he replied sadly. "Hackett passed on a message that she's alright, currently commanding what's left of the Eighth Fleet near the Kepler Verge. They've been engaging the Reaper's in hit and run attacks since the war began."

"She's a good captain. I know she will be alright. Tell me about the dream," the quarian prompted.

For long moments he sat in the near darkness, trying to collect his thoughts. To her credit Tali didn't push, simply remaining a comforting presence at his side. How to explain what he had seen? It wasn't even something he was certain was real. One of the problems with having memories that weren't your own was that you never knew which were important and which were simply the subconscious running rampant.

"I was standing on Rannoch. When I looked up there were… ships, thousands of ships, burning up in the atmosphere. Wreckage being pulled down by the planet's gravity," Shepard explained at last. "I was watching them fall in the distance, feeling the impact when they struck."

He felt a shiver run through the arm that was pressed against him. To a quarian, the loss of a single ship was a tragedy. The loss of a thousand would have been seen as the herald of their extinction as a species. He forged on, though, knowing that if he asked it would only prompt an assurance that she was fine and for him to continue.

"It could have been any other dream. I've seen something similar hundreds of times before. The Reapers… they're fond of showing me my failures."

"Except you didn't fail. You saved my people and the geth when we would have destroyed each other."

"Reality doesn't matter to them. I don't think they can even comprehend the concept of defeat at this point, to them anything we do is nothing more than delaying the inevitable. Their victory isn't a matter of question, only of time."

"I won't believe that," Tali whispered harshly.

"Neither will I," he promised. "This dream was different, though. Saren was there. He was whole, no cybernetics, no scars. He wasn't even threatening me. He sounded almost… sad."

Her eyes were no longer half-lidded with drowsiness now. They glittered in the reflected light of the fish tank, fixed on him as if studying some strange artifact.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I know. He even seemed to be trying to warn me of… something. Leviathan. I think he was trying to tell me that the Reapers were hunting it too. Said that I would find it in the dark and the cold."

"Could it really have been him? It's been three years."

Shepard sighed and idly ran his fingers through the quarian's hair, toying with it between his fingers as he pondered.

"Maybe? We saw what the Reapers were doing with the kidnapped colonists and even what they did to Saren. Those cybernetic implants clearly connected him to Sovereign somehow," he replied at last. "It might not be him, really, but maybe it's just what's left of him. A ghost in the machine."

"It could also be a trick," Tali pointed out.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it is, but it just didn't feel the same as all the others. Before there was always a feeling of raw malevolence, hatred. Despite the horrific surroundings this time it just felt… resigned. Sad."

"Then what do we do?"

He looked down at her and smiled.

"What we've always done: keep fighting. I won't let a dream change our plans, but I won't forget it either. We'll be in the Citadel in a few hours. Why don't we get some sleep?"

With now familiar grace, the warmth that was pressed against his side shifted and he found himself with slim quarian straddling his thighs, a predatory smile tugging at her lips as she leaned close and nipped the side of neck.

"I've got a better idea…"

* * *

><p>"What's our status, Joker?"<p>

"We just received authorization to dock, Commander. Man, these guys are getting paranoid. You'd think that we were trying to smuggle a Reaper in the cargo hold," the pilot replied.

"They're just being cautious. Reapers aren't the only threat," Shepard said. "Cerberus. Indoctrinated sleepers. Even just plain desperate people."

"You're the freaking Praetor of the System's Alliance now. That basically makes the Normandy like… Alliance One. If you're indoctrinated we're kinda screwed. On the upside they say a wartime president always gets re-elected."

He grimaced at Joker's turn of phrase, a cold shiver running down his spine as he looked out at the assembled ships around them. Two of the massive rachni queen ships hung in space over the Citadel while swarms of cruisers and fighters patrolled just outside the relay. Two Alliance minelayer cruisers were slowly encircling the relay's exit point with disruption mines. It was a very different Citadel than it had been when he had arrived a lifetime ago after Eden Prime.

"I'm not looking to run for office. I didn't even want the one I have."

"Clearly more important things demanding your time."

He cocked an eyebrow at the pilot. Joker coughed and pointedly rubbed at the collar of his uniform. When he apparently showed no comprehension the pilot appeared to be about to elaborate when EDI interrupted.

"Jeff is referring to contusion located on your neck. Diameter of forty six point four millimeters would obviously suggest the contusion was due to Tali'Zorah's-"

"Okay, that's enough science applied to that problem, EDI," Joker cut the AI off quickly. "I… we should definitely go over the… docking protocols."

Shepard left the cockpit at that point, though not before overhearing the brief discussion between pilot and ship.

"Jeff, I do not understand. Did I cause embarrassment?"

"It's complicated EDI."

"But you told me you liked-"

"We are so not having that conversation right now. Or like… ever. When there are other people on the ship. Anywhere. At all."

He decided it was definitely time to be as far away from the cockpit as possible. The rest of the ship was operating smoothly. Traynor updated him on the latest reports from the dozen fronts that existed their seemingly endless war. Palaven and Earth were occupied worlds fighting guerilla actions. Hanar space was rapidly being overrun, while the first Reaper capital ships had reached the Elcor homeworld.

The Reapers didn't appear to have any sense of urgency, even when allied forces managed to strike a blow against their forces. Anderson's last report stated that they had set off a thermobaric charge inside one of the Reaper 'processing centers'. Despite destroying hundreds of husks and nearly a dozen harvesters pursuit had been minimal with no change in their patterns. The harvest continued unabated.

"Rough night?" a flanged voice said behind him.

"I swear I'm going to break every one of Joker's fragile, helpless bones," Shepard sighed and turned to face Garrus.

"Why… oh," the turian replied, mandibles curling amusement. "I actually meant about for the war effort, but I see my comment was well-timed."

"I also swear I will punch you in the gizzard if you say anything else."

Garrus' grin turned into a poorly concealed laugh.

"I'm not saying anything. It's cute, really. Actually turians do something similar. Just didn't realize quarians had the same, ah, customs."

"Gizzard."

"Fine, fine…" his friend relented, gesturing towards the rear of the ship. "I came to tell you that Samara and her daughter are ready to depart. So is Doctor Bryson."

As if on cue the elevator doors opened to reveal the eldar asari and her child. Falere looked far better than she had when she first set foot on the Normandy. The loss of her sister would take time, maybe even years, for the young asari to recover from, but at least there was something akin to hope in her eyes.

"Shepard. Are you certain the Citadel is the best location for my charges?" Samara asked after the perfunctory greeting. "All are powerful biotics and most have not been outside the monastery in over a century."

"I have a contact on the station. An asari matron that will provide them all with a place to stay and far more security than anywhere else they could possibly go. I've already contacted her to make the arrangements and sent her information to your omni-tool."

He stepped aside to let them exit the elevator as he spoke.

"I will defer to your judgment. The others will be up momentarily. The rachni brood warrior Sings-Twilight-Among-Broken-Stars has taken responsibility for their well-being since coming aboard. He is a… strange being, but despite that seems to possess a pure soul and purpose. I should not be surprised that you would find one such among those that we once thought of as monsters."

"Twilight is only one of many. The rachni are the one ally I have in this war that have no other agenda, no politics to get in the way. I can only wonder if things would have been different if peace had been achieved centuries ago," the Spectre said.

"Pleasant dreams do nothing to alter harsh reality," Samara countered. "But I understand the possibilities. Where are the others?"

"Tali somehow convinced Kasumi to help with repairs and upgrades while we're docked," Garrus answered. "EDI will obviously be staying aboard for the same reason."

Samara nodded.

"It is strange. The ship seems much… emptier with so few aboard even though the crew is present as always."

"I know the feeling," Shepard agreed.

A few minutes later the remaining asari arrived, escorted by the enormous rachni warrior just as promised. It was odd to think that a half dozen asari including Falere were likely among the last Ardat Yakshi in existence after the slaughter on Lesuss. Garrus was handing each of them small packages of gear. Supply lines were stretched and even on the Citadel it wouldn't do to have them showing up to Aethyeta's empty handed.

As the women gathered by the airlock Samara approached him once more.

"You have my thanks, Shepard."

He glanced at the assembled asari, all standing close together.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save more of them."

"Only because of your intervention is my daughter or any of those women still alive. It is also why, once I have confirmed that my daughter and the others will both be safe and present no danger to those around then, I would return to your service."

That one he hadn't expected.

"Samara, you're one of the most powerful biotics and dangerous combatants I've ever served with, but your oath to me ended with the death of the Collectors," Shepard explained. "The simple truth of the matter is that I cannot promise to abide by the Code. The actions that I might take or even order before this war ends…"

"I understand, Shepard. Much of my Order has already fallen in battle against the Reapers. Your words on Lesuss gave me pause. I had dedicated my life to the Order to hunt down my daughter, but Morinth is dead. Without purpose the Code is hollow."

The Spectre studied Samara's face, but as always, her serene expression gave nothing away. He crossed his arms and leaned against the bulkhead, nodding for her to continue.

"What are you saying?"

"Even now others have seen what I have seen in you, they place their fates in your hands. Praetor is the title you were given, but your choices have shaped the course of this galaxy long before then. I will swear a new oath. To serve you until such a time as you release me or we fall in battle."

"I don't know how to respond to that," he replied honestly. "What you're talking about is… extreme. You're not agreeing to help me with a mission. You're agreeing to follow me, personally."

"As my oath when we first met. Your choices would be my choices, your morals would be my morals. Either this war will be the final days of our species or it will shape the future for centuries to come. You are the one to lead us down that path."

When Shepard had first set foot on the Normandy SR-1 one such an offer would have been incomprehensible. Even with years of military discipline, such blind obedience was something he couldn't have wrapped his head around. A year ago, back from the dead and working with the very people he had worked so hard to stop before he fell, he would have never understood how someone could follow him.

Now worlds burned. The greatest military force in the galaxy had unified under a shaky alliance to fight for survival and he stood at its head. Every day he woke up wishing for nothing more than the ability to set that burden aside and closed his eyes at night knowing he couldn't. One way or the other he had become more than a soldier.

"Take care of your daughter. But when that's done there will be a place for you here, Samara. If that is how you feel, then I will be honored to accept your oath and your service."

He extended his hand to Samara. The justicar grasped his wrist tightly and nodded.

"I will return as soon as my duty to Falere and the other Ardat-Yakshi is fulfilled."

No other words were apparently needed and Sarama quickly joined her daughter by the airlock. Garrus strode over to him while they all shuffled into the airlock, a quizzical expression on his face.

"What was that?" the turian asked.

"Samara will be joining us on the Normandy again once her daughter and the others are settled with Aethyta."

Garrus grunted.

"Not that I'm complaining about having another set of hands, especially when they're attached to a woman that I think even scared Grunt a little… but is that really a good idea? She was going to kill herself back on that planet because of a two-thousand year old book of rules."

"She's swearing an oath to me personally. Not to fight just this war or this mission, but to me."

The turian gave him a sidelong glance and then clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Then it sounds like she's caught up to the rest of us."

* * *

><p>It had been good to see the asari welcomed with open arms by Aethyta and Quin'Sala. The eccentric matriarch had been her usual brusque self, but she and Samara had spoken quietly off to one side and had apparently reached some kind of understanding. Leaving the Justicar behind to help the others settle into their new home they had returned to the Normandy to escort Dr. Bryson to her late father's lab.<p>

"Oh god…" the woman whispered, covering her mouth with her hands.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I wouldn't have brought you here if it wasn't vitally important," Shepard apologized. "We can give you a minute if you need it."

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. The office was still a mess, though the worst of the debris had been removed. There was no quick and easy way to clean the blood stains, though, not even for the keepers.

"It's… okay. I'm glad you told me when I first came aboard. It gave me time to…" Bryson said, trailing off for a moment. "My father and I had our differences. We argued and fought. It's just so hard thinking that he's gone now."

"I understand the feeling, Doc," Garrus interjected quietly. "My father and I aren't particularly close anymore… but it doesn't change the fact that he's family."

She looked at the turian a little surprised but finally gave him a weary smile.

"I know he'd want me to complete his work. That will have to be enough."

Shepard reached out and touched the doctor's shoulder gently.

"We'll all have time to mourn when this war is over."

"Then let's help you end it," Bryson agreed with a nod.

Two C-Sec agents wearing full combat gear stood guard at the entrance to the lab itself. His eyes flicked across the two men. The armor was new but on both rifles he could see hints of wear on the fire selectors, around the trigger guards. Guns that had definitely been used, even if only at the simulator ranges. It seemed Bailey had kept his promise that he wouldn't be leaving green recruits behind to guard the labs.

"Sir," one of the men said as he stepped aside.

The rest of the lab was as he remembered it; filled with strange artifacts, stacked dataslates, and various other items. Even that disturbing husk head was still sitting on one of the tables. It was one item he wouldn't have been entirely sorry to have seen 'damaged'. For Ann Bryson it was clearly a different experience.

The young scientist moved among the seemingly disorganized stacks, touching various items and pausing at others. She seemed to be in a haze for a few minutes but neither he nor Garrus tried to rush her. Finally she found something under one of the piles that snapped her attention back into the present.

It was a physical book rather than some kind of digital recording, bound in what appeared to be red leather. Flowing script embossed in gold decorated the spine and cover. Worn edges and cracks in the leather suggested great age. When Bryson opened the cover to reveal yellow pages, all filled with similar flowing script, it only served to reinforce the impression.

"A book? Not exactly common anymore," Garrus said.

"This book is nearly a thousand years old," the scientist explained, not looking up as she thumbed through the pages. "The script is ancient asari and even that old it's still just a copy of a copy."

Shepard moved to look over her shoulder.

"A copy of what?"

"The Athame Doctrine."

"Wait, the asari goddess?"

"Not something I expected a soldier to know about, but yes."

"He's got some firsthand asari experience," Garrus added innocently.

He shot his friend a glare but gestured for Bryson to continue.

"Before the Siari religion became the dominant force in asari spirituality, the asari worship of Athame was one of the most powerful forces on their planet. She was credited with bringing civilization to the asari along with her two guides or consorts, Janiri and Lucen."

"Historically interesting, but what does that have to do with your father's research?"

"Everything."

The suddenly revitalized young doctor pushed past him with the book still in hand and went to the central computer. Her fingers flew across the keys but a harsh bleat stopped her progress.

"Who the hell locked out the system?" she demanded.

"Sorry, we'll get that taken care of," Shepard promised and tapped his omni-tool. "EDI, can you please log into the Bryson central server and remove the security protocols?"

"Of course, Shepard."

Code flooded the large display as the ship's resident AI quickly dismantled the countless layers of security protection around the system. It would have taken even expert hackers like Tali or Kasumi hours to work through them… which had been the point.

"We had EDI lock everything down so that anyone attempting the access the data would find it useless," he explained as the AI worked. "Cerberus is clearly hunting Leviathan as well."

The doctor shivered reflexively.

"That man… Kai Leng said that my research would be the key to humanity seizing its 'proper place' in the universe."

"That explosive was brought in by Leng and the rest of Cerberus. He must have found whatever information he wanted," Garrus suggested.

Bryson nodded.

"He… he did. He copied it off of my omni-tool and destroyed it. But the work we did was dangerous. All of us were equipped with subdermal back ups. I guess he didn't have time to search too thoroughly."

"Security protocols disabled, Shepard. I will resume my primary focus on the Normandy's maintenance," EDI interrupted. "I have dedicated four percent of my processing power to monitoring this uplink for any requests, however."

"Thank you, EDI," he said. "Doctor, can you show us this information? If it leads us to Leviathan then it could be the turning point of this war."

"Of course."

Her omni-tool was already active. There was a moment of delay as the system accessed the backup device. The small implanted data receivers were meant to hold small packets of information and give off minimal signatures against common scans. He had one of his own embedded in his clavicle, as every N7 marine did, containing their personal data. A digital dog tag.

An image appeared on the holo projector, fuzzy at first before snapping into clarity. The Spectre looked on in confusion. It looked like a video from an omni-tool recording device. The illumination increased to reveal a massive stone room. It must have been from somewhere in the monastery.

"We went to Lesuss because our investigation revealed that it was actually one of the very first asari off-world colonies," Bryson confirmed. "It was founded by Athame's followers within decades of the asari unlocking their first relay. My father knew that the asari were the oldest space faring race in the galaxy and if anyone knew where this Leviathan might be, it could be the asari."

"Not a bad assumption. When you're looking for information in a case you always start at the beginning, figure out where it all started," Garrus mused.

The scientist nodded in agreement.

"That was our assumption… but it was difficult to track down. For some reason the asari seemed to shift their religious and cultural norms drastically at multiple points in their history. It's almost as if entirely new philosophies overtook their species in various waves. Less than two centuries after the Lesuss monastery was established, Athame's worship had dwindled to a fraction of the population. With their lifespans that would be the equivalent of one dominant religion replacing another in human or turian culture in a matter of twenty or thirty years."

The recording continued to move around the stone room as Bryson and her team investigated. Layers of dust coated the floor and walls, whatever part of the monastery they had been in hadn't been used in countless years. Beneath the dust, though, lay words etched into the stone itself in the same flowing script as the book that sat on the console nearby.

"The Athame Doctrine also seemed to be missing parts, it spoke about Athame and her consorts passing down knowledge to the asari people. Giving them medicine, agriculture, writing… dozens of hallmarks of modern civilization," she continued. "But nothing in the Doctrine explained the origins of asari life. There was no creation myth, no opposition or influence outside Athame herself. There was an afterlife promised but only in the vaguest terms of being 'honored in Athame's grace'."

Shepard shrugged.

"Liara told me once that most religious scholars explained it by saying that as a mono-gendered species her people didn't divide things into the same binary patterns as the other species."

"Maybe not. Many religions don't have a concept of heaven or hell… but virtually every religion I've ever studied attempts to offer at least some explanation as to where we came from, where we're going. But Athame only seemed to be about the here and now, the advancing of asari society," the scientist explained, and pointed to the screen. "It never made sense until we found these."

Pictographs were etched into the stone along with the script. Images of a towering figure directing smaller figures that were clearly asari, icons that the display began to translate as indications of medicine, farming, and the many 'gifts' that Bryson had just been describing.

"The original colonists literally transcribed the entire Doctrine into the walls of the original monastery without change, keeping even the original primitive art style… but there was more here. Passages that we never found in any of the copies like this one, almost as if it had been erased. One of the passages describes another power, a 'dweller in darkness' and a 'cold thought in the wind' that once ruled over all creation before the coming of Athame."

He and Garrus locked gazes. Something told him that the same echo was ringing in his ears as well. 'The darkness must not be breached'. The late Doctor Bryson's last words. The same words that had been repeated to them on the asteroid where they had found the bizarre experiments.

"Is there more?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Bryson replied quickly, tapping at her omni-tool to fast-forward the video. "Many of the inscriptions were faded, the pictographs had lost some of their definition. But not all of them. This one shows Lucen granting the knowledge of medicine to the first true healers in asari history. Look at Lucen."

"Spirits, it can't be…" Garrus muttered.

The scientist paused the image. As she had said it showed a tall figure, not as large as Athame but bigger than the asari that knelt at its feet. In one outstretched hand the figure of Lucen was holding out what Shepard could only assume was the representation of the knowledge of asari medicine. The important feature, though, wasn't what Lucen was providing… but the figure itself and the objects surrounding it.

Lucen was depicted with only two large figures and a thumb, a sloping forehead that became a ridged crest that extended backwards along with two eyes drawn on one side of the image's profile. No nose protruded from the figure's face as it did on the simply drawn asari figures. A year ago he wouldn't have recognized it. Now, though… now he had met one in person. A prothean. And around Lucen's towering form was a field of distinct images, short spires just over twice the height of the worshiping asari. Each one identical to the prothean beacon that he had touched on Eden Prime years ago.

"That's not all. The final chapters of the Doctrine speak of the 'destroyers in the void'. It says that Athame told her followers that only through her teachings could they hope to stand against them. To quote the book directly 'Look upon my works and drink deeply of their visions, for when the stars are yours there will come death from the void. Stand as lights against the darkness or the harvest of stars will be without end'."

Shepard's head snapped to focus on Bryson, the words leaving his mouth without thought.

"Fuck me."

"Ah… eloquently put," Bryson agreed hesitantly.

"Sorry, Doctor… trying to process this. If these ruins are thousands of years old…"

"They are. All the data we retrieved confirms it and until the first sightings of your companion Javik no one had ever seen what a prothean looks like. Even Dr. T'soni's published data on Ilos assumed that the statues there were physical representations of the protheans."

Thoughts ricocheted through his head like a pitched firefight. The asari were the oldest spacefaring species of their cycle with lifespans that could reach a millennium, with a rich culture… and a long, proudly remembered history. Maybe, just maybe, it was possible that the writings of this Athame Doctrine could have been lost to time. But it seemed damned unlikely.

"Shepard, you thinking the same thing I am?" Garrus asked.

Things began to fall into place in his head. Conclusions that he couldn't deny, whether he liked them or not. Confusion crystallized into understanding. And that understanding began to heat his blood like molten steel being poured into a forge. He met the other Spectre's gaze and nodded slowly.

"I'm thinking we need to pay Councilor Tevos a visit."

* * *

><p>"C-Commander Shepard! Please wait! The councilor is currently in a meeting-"<p>

"She can re-schedule."

Without slowing, Shepard sidestepped Tevos' assistant and headed towards the door to the Councilor's office. Two asari commandos flanked the entrance. The rapid approach of two armored Spectres caused their eyes to widen and they half-raised the assault rifles in their grip, glancing at one another.

"You can move… or be moved," Garrus said, his casual tone only seeming to emphasize the threat.

A tense moment passed. One of the asari swallowed and clearly steeled herself before speaking, words clipped and controlled.

"We can't let you pass. Even a Spectre can't enter a councilor's office uninvited. We have both been trained biotics since before your species left Earth, Commander."

"It's actually Praetor now…" Garrus replied sharply.

The human Spectre held up a hand and took a single step closer, causing both women to tense.

"I've had long conversations with an asari justicar on subject of biotics. Powers, species, training methods. And there is one interesting fact that came up. For the asari biotics is natural, just another skill mastered through decades and centuries of training," he said, voice eerily calm as he locked eyes with the commando that had spoken. "Humans are different. We don't come by our biotics naturally, it's an aberration. Asari have to learn to strengthen their biotics like a muscle. Humans? We have to learn to control ours like a wild animal straining against its bonds or it will kill us. Or someone else."

Shepard's hands curled into fists at his sides. A faint glow of biotic energy began to hum around his form. His tone became less calm, his words more heated and clipped.

"Grief, fear, anger… the stronger the emotion, the harder it is to control. But that same emotion, when harnessed, can give you strength you didn't know was possible. I am telling you this so that you will have the slightest hint of the rage that is coursing through my body at this instant."

Without moving power surged out from him, yanking the two asari off their feet before they could react and leaving them floating in mid-air. His final sentence emerged as a snarl.

"Now drop your fucking weapons."

After another moment of hesitation, the pair wisely complied. Garrus took the rifles from each of the asari and Shepard unclenched his fists. The biotic power faded and unceremoniously dropped the commandos to the ground. Without a second glance he stepped past them and slammed his fist into the door release.

If the two commandos had appeared surprised when he had approached, Tevos and the other asari that she was speaking with looked positively flabbergasted as Shepard stalked into the room with Garrus right behind. The turian tossed the pair of assault rifles onto the small couch in the foyer of the office before taking up a position next to Shepard.

"Shepard? What in the name of the goddess are you doing?" Tevos demanded, standing up from behind her desk.

He ignored her and addressed the other asari.

"I suggest you leave."

The nameless asari first looked to Tevos and then at the pair of armored men. Apparently deciding that whatever was going on wasn't worth arguing about in this particular moment she nodded quickly to the asari councilor and darted out the door.

"Commander Shepard, I do not know what is going on but this is unacceptable. What are you doing?" Tevos asked again.

"I'm here to have a conversation about protheans, Councilor. About Reapers and lies. A very frank one."

Tevos steepled her fingers in front of her and put on a hesitant smile.

"I don't know what I'm going to be able to tell you that you don't already know, Commander. Our own war efforts have-"

"Enough!"

Shepard punctuated his outburst by slamming one armored fist into Tevos' desk hard enough to send a spiderweb of cracks across the glass surface. His omni-tool appeared on his wrist and with a single command he linked it to every view screen in the room. On each images appeared, all the same: Lucen granting medicine to the asari, the image taken directly from the caverns below the monastery.

It was interesting to watch an asari physically pale as the realization sunk in. Tevos' normally dark blue skin lightened almost an entire shade and for the first time since he'd ever dealt with the Council she appeared at a loss for words. It only served to confirm what Shepard had already known.

"You knew! You always knew the truth!"

"W-We only suspected," she replied, desperately trying to recover some sense of control. "Athame's faith fell out of favor generations ago. We treated it as just another myth. Humans have dozens of religions..."

"A myth? I've never opened the Bible or the Quran and seen a perfect representation of a fifty thousand year old prothean beacon, Councilor!"

Tevos shook her head.

"We just… we couldn't…"

"Couldn't what?" Garrus interjected icly from a few feet behind when the asari trailed off.

"We… the asari and the salarians established the original Citadel Council. One of the very first laws passed was that all prothean technology was required to be turned over for study," she finally answered. "But the Republics reasoned that it should only apply to newly discovered technology. If we turned over the beacon on Thessia it would result in the rapid loss of the asari's technological superiority."

He could hear the incredulity in Garrus' flanged voice when he spoke again.

"You hid a prothean beacon from the rest of the galaxy? For two _thousand _years?"

"It became a necessity!" Tevos shot back bitterly. "The original decision was made out of practicality but once the turians joined the Council we knew we couldn't reveal its existence! If we did the asari look as if they were violating Council law. The turians were young and aggressive, they would have seized the advantage and easily become the dominant species on the Council!"

"From the moment you received the reports from Eden Prime you had to have recognized that the prothean artifact that was identical to the one on Thessia," Shepard accused.

Tevos turned her hands upward in a helpless gesture.

"We couldn't have known that the Reapers were real! No one had physically touched the beacon in over a thousand years! The few that were recorded to have interacted with it directly went mad!"

"Couldn't… couldn't have known?" he sputtered.

He did his best to control his temper, turning his back on the councilor and pacing towards the other side of the room as she spoke. Shepard could feel his hands shaking even as blood thundered in his ears.

"If I had revealed the beacon's existence after Eden Prime it would only have sowed dissent among the Citadel races when we were already in a crisis. Think of the possible… repercussions!"

He spun on his heel, eyes flashing with barely controlled rage. Tiny arcs of biotic energy snapped out from him like tiny, cracking whips of force.

"The repercussions were that thousands of people died!" Shepard roared. "Soldiers, civilians. Innocent lives… they all might have been saved if we had known the truth!"

"The sacrifices of the brave men and women that have fought the Reapers have not been forgotten, Shepard. But you don't understand the cost-"

"Cost? I don't understand_ the cost_?"

His control slipped for a brief second and felt his left arm spasm reflexively. A wave of raw biotic energy pulsed outwards slammed into the vid-screen against the nearby wall. In a shower of sparks the device cracked and crumpled as if being crushed by an enormous fist. In two strides he closed the distance to Tevos' desk, grabbing the edge tightly enough to send a new wave of cracks across its surface as he leaned across it.

"I ordered the Fifth Fleet into the jaws of the geth armada to save the _Destiny Ascension _and the rest of your lives! I left Kaidan Alenko to die on Virmire to stop Saren! I have buried friends and loved ones all for the cause of this god damn war! I _died_ you hypocritical blue _bitch_!" Shepard snarled in a barely coherent rage. "Before this is all ends the decisions I have made will have left the blood of millions on my hands! Do not ever speak to me about the cost!"

For almost a minute there was silence, broken only by the sound of his deep, ragged breaths. Across from him Tevos had backed away as far as she could, trembling against the glass window of her office. Moment by moment he could feel the rage dripping away, replaced by a much colder, calculating anger.

"What do you want to know?" Tevos finally asked, quietly.

"Everything. Every scrap of data, every ancient text, every piece of technology the asari species has ever extracted from prothean technology. I don't care how classified or how secret it is."

She nodded and took a tentative step back towards her desk.

"There will be push back."

The expression on his face was apparently enough to give the councilor pause once more, causing her to cease her approach.

"I am done playing games, Tevos," Shepard replied coldly, intentionally dropping her title from the address. "Any of your people that feel that their politics and secrets are worth dying for, I will oblige them personally. You will send everything you find to the other Councilors and the new Systems Alliance."

He stepped away from Tevos' desk and headed towards the door, pausing to look back and meet the asari's eyes with a hard stare.

"If not, I swear on my life that I will come back to this office and personally correct the mistake I made when I ordered the Fifth Fleet to save the _Destiny Ascension_."

* * *

><p>It was a long twenty minute ride in tense silence. Garrus found his talons digging into the armrest of the aircar as Shepard jerked the vehicle in and out of traffic with violent maneuvers. He had lost none of her precision but his grace left much to be desired. Finally the turian figured he'd given the Spectre long enough.<p>

"Make a stop at Zakera Ward," Garrus requested.

The non-sequitur request had the desired effect, causing Shepard's tightly knitted brow to lose focus as he glanced over.

"What?"

"Zakera Ward. One of five wards in the Citadel? Bailey's old stomping ground?"

"I know what Zakera Ward is, Garrus," Shepard growled. "Why are we stopping there?"

"Need to pick up a few things. We don't have anywhere to be," he pointed out. "Kasumi said before we left that they're swapping out the Normandy's heatsinks. That's at least a six hour job. Maybe five with Tali working on it."

"Fine."

The human clearly couldn't think of a good counter argument and cut the aircar in a hard bank to port. A small part of Garrus was actual amused at the blatant anger in Shepard's every movement. Humans were usually easy to read. A handful like Shepard and Kasumi were much better than most add keeping their emotions under wraps at least when it came to their facial expressions. But if there was one thing Shepard was terrible at concealing it was anger.

It was certainly justified anger. He had felt a similar rage as soon as they had made the connection between the discoveries in the asari temple and what was nothing short of a galactic conspiracy. Unlike his friend, however, Garrus had immediately felt that rage crystallize into something cold and calculating.

In truth he knew he couldn't perfectly understand Shepard's own rage… he had suffered losses under his own command on Omega that would never fade. But they weren't intrinsically linked to the ongoing war. They were memories of failure and anger for lost friends. Shepard's was that of a man who knew now, far too late, that there had been a chance to save those that had died under his command. It was a cruel thing to know.

When the aircar stopped he gave Shepard nod and a gesture indicating five minutes. The Spectre merely grunted and appeared to be doing his best to strangle the life out of the aircar's manual controls.

It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. A small shop near the end of one of the row on the first level advertising classic firearms for the discerning buyer. He stepped inside and inhaled the familiar scent of gun oil like it was an old friend. The selection on the walls was like a history book of the last few centuries of warfare.

"What can I do for you?" the proprietor asked, a tall turian male in older style combat armor.

"I'm looking for a particular rifle… original model Mantis M-92, standard eight/twelve/twenty four magnification scope," Garrus said. "I heard from a friend of a friend that you might be a man that would have one."

"Mark One M-92? With the pre-Eden Prime heat dispersal?"

Garrus nodded.

"That's the one."

"A real classic… I do have one in fact. I was able to purchase it at C-Sec auction just after the major overhaul."

The other turian clicked his mandibles against the side of his face and tapped at the console in front of him. After a moment he gave the screen a final tap and one of the many panels on the wall shifted, rotating until it revealed the rifle in question. The proprietor took the weapon down and handed it across the counter where it settled into Garrus' grip as naturally as an old lover. He grinned.

"Perfect, I'll take it."

"I… you didn't even ask the price," the other turian said, nonplussed.

"There's a war going on out there. My personal savings aren't high on my list of priorities," he replied wryly. "Do you have any frangible ammo blocks?"

"Of course. But I can't let you take the item out of the shop. All sales must be shipped off station or secured at customs until departure-"

Garrus extended his arm and activated his omni-tool. The glowing display projected his Spectre credentials and linked to the shop's database, immediately verifying his status.

"Consider that particular regulation overridden."

The shopkeeper stared for a long moment in shock before finally speaking.

"You're Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian! You and Shepard… you took down Saren Arterius. Fought on Palaven against the Reapers? Spirits, in my store!"

"That's me," he agreed hesitantly.

It was Garrus' turn to be surprised. He was used to Shepard being recognized but he wasn't expecting anyone to know his name. Sure, it had been on the vids after the Battle of the Citadel and had come up on various news reports after disaster on Utukku. But this was new.

"Here," the other turian said, reaching under the counter and slapping a sealed ammo block on the counter. "Take them both."

"At least let me pay-"

The proprietor shook his head rapidly, mandibles quivering.

"No. I was never a good soldier. I could strip a gun, hit at target, but I never wanted to fight in a war. I mustered out as soon as I could… if I hadn't maybe I'd be back on Palaven fighting those monsters instead of here, safe in this shop. If Garrus Vakarian walks into my store I think its the Spirits telling me everything hasn't been a waste. Take them."

He mentally scrambled. It felt wrong to take a gift just for… existing.

"How about I at least give you… something? Er… an endorsement?"

"I… would be honored," the starstruck turian replied, quickly tapping at his terminal. "Just speak in the direction of the terminal."

Garrus cleared his throat.

"I'm Garrus Vakarian, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel."

He paused until the the shopkeeper nodded.

"It was an honor, sir. I hope the weapon serves you well."

"I know it will," Garrus said.

He moved to leave the shop with his new purchase before stopping with one last thought, directing his question at the proprietor.

"Do you know of any shops that stock a good selection of dextro and levo beer?"

* * *

><p>"What in the hell?"<p>

Shepard hadn't be entirely sure what Garrus was looking for on Zakera Ward but he certainly hadn't expected the turian to open the aircar door with a plastic sack of what looked like beer cradled under his arm and a rifle in his grip.

"I said I needed to pick up a few things."

"Is that a 92?" he asked, taking a closer look at the rifle in Garrus' hand. "Where the hell did you find a 92?"

"Bailey pointed me in the direction of a guy," the turian replied. "Switch seats, I'm driving."

"Driving? We should get back to the Normandy."

Garrus shook his head and hooked his thumb in the direction of the passenger seat in a decidedly human gesture.

"So you can brood in the ship, probably pissing off Kasumi, Tali, and EDI when you ask for updates every fifteen minutes? I don't think so. Humor me, Shepard. We need to do something, even if it's just for a few minutes, that doesn't involve fighting Reapers."

"I don't think they've conquered the nearest bar yet," he shot back in frustration, shifting to the other seat as Garrus put his new acquisitions in the back seat.

It wasn't a serious suggestion. He knew that particular brand of self-medication was a waste of time. Not only did it take a krogan-like amount of alcohol to have an effect on him, it never helped anything. Even as much as he would like to forget the universe for just a few hours.

"I had a better idea," Garrus said.

The aircar lifted off smoothly and flew out into the open space above the Zakera Ward. Garrus veered it away from docking bay and then put the car into a steady climb. As frustrated and angry as he was it made Shepard curious.

"Where are we going?"

The turian's response was intentionally coy.

"Somewhere we're not supposed to."

"At least some things never change."

"Exactly. After what just happened… it got me thinking. Everything we've done, practically flying blind. Ever had that one thing you wanted to do before you died?"

Memories flashed through his mind. The exhilaration that overrode the pain in his side when they were standing there in the ruins of the Council chambers, Saren finally dead and Sovereign defeated. Gasping for air that wasn't there, a burning in his lungs. Waking up in Cerberus' facility. Getting his first look at Tali's face and feeling her lips against his. The tightness in his throat as he saluted Mordin and watched the salarian ascend in the lift.

"I don't even know how to answer that anymore, Garrus. Technically I've already died once."

"True, not a fair question for you I guess. But I always had a simple one. Day after day I'd sit in my office at C-Sec and stare up at the top of the Presidium and say 'I want to go up there'. But I never did. There were a hundred and thirty seven regulations telling me I couldn't."

He arched an eyebrow at his companion.

"So what, you got them changed?"

"No, now I just don't give a damn."

Despite himself Shepard felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. The aircar continued to climb until at last they had indeed reached the very top of the Presidium. Below the artificial lakes and gardens stretched out below as if they were atop a towering mountain. Garrus settled the car down and killed the engine, stepping out and grabbing the rifle and bag.

"I figured it was time to do something stupid just for the hell of it. Might be the last chance we ever get," Garrus said as he stepped out of the car.

He looked out at the view and had to admit it was breathtaking. From this height there was no evidence of the Cerberus coup, the war going on outside. It could have been the same Citadel that he'd set foot on over three years ago before the universe had turned upside down. Before he'd become whatever he was now instead of just another soldier.

"Right brand?" the turian asked from beside him.

Shepard glanced over to see a bottle held out in his direction, beaded with condensation. He blinked once in surprise and took the offered drink. Popping the top with a thumb he took a long swig. A cold, citrusy brew.

"Close enough," he replied, letting out a long sigh.

Almost as if on autopilot he followed Garrus' lead and took a seat on the edge of the structure, feet dangling over the thirty story drop below. The both sat in a companionable silence for almost five minutes, nursing their respective drinks, before Garrus broke the silence.

"Calmed down?"

He nodded.

"Yea. A little at least. That what this was about?"

"Ha. Not everything is about you, Shepard. I did want to come up here," the turian shot back with a laugh. "But it seemed like a good time for a diversion. You want to talk about it?"

It actually took some thought to decide. His rant at Tevos had been somewhat cathartic, but as soon as they'd left the Council offices his anger had welled up again like a bitter spring. Finally he simply shrugged.

"What is there to talk about? Three god damn years. We've been fighting for three years and all this time they've been sitting there in silence. So many lost. So many… friends that we could have done… something… anything differently…"

"My father and I have never really gotten along," Garrus said. "But one piece of advice I did keep in mind was an old saying of his. 'Don't question the spear once it's thrown'. Whatever we know now we don't know if it would have changed anything."

He sighed again and downed the rest of the beer in one long gulp. As he spoke his grip tightened until he heard the sound of the glass bottle cracking in his grip. Shepard took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. It was a technique he felt the need to use all too often these days.

"It's a good saying but it just feels… hollow. I can tell myself I couldn't have known, but Mordin is still gone. Kaidan is still gone. Legion. Thane. And thousands of others."

"They're gone, but they're not forgotten. And none of them would be blaming you right now. Be careful that you don't go down the same path you were on before Utukku," Garrus cautioned.

"No… that one will never happen again. The only demons in my head are mine now."

"Good to hear. Now tell them to fuck off. We don't have time to dwell on past mistakes anymore, Boss. Everything we've seen in the last few weeks made that clear."

Another smile threatened to force its way onto Shepard's face as he glanced over at his turian friend. Without noticing it his breathing had slowed. The anger had begun to bleed away. Instead took the bait and rehashed an old argument.

"Pretty sure we've been over this. You're a Spectre now. I'm not the boss anymore."

"Old habits die hard, Shepard. If you hadn't found me when you did? I wouldn't be a Spectre now. I'd have been dead in the Battle of the Citadel or back fighting on Palaven against the Reapers… who knows what else? I took a rocket to the damn face. But I wouldn't trade it."

Shepard leaned over and fished another beer out of the bag, clinking it against Garrus' own bottle.

"I'll drink to that. It's been… one hell of a ride. So much loss. But I don't know where I'd be without the people I've met along the way."

Next to him Garrus chuckled.

"Certain quarian wouldn't have anything to do with that would it? Might know her. Good with tools, painfully optimistic? And of course the hips-"

He thumped the back of his hand against the turian's armored side to cut him off. Shepard's tone was sharp, but he couldn't keep the smirk from his face.

"Watch yourself. I know all about turians and their hip fetish. Keep your talons off my girlfriend."

"It's not a fetish. It's evolution!"

"Keep telling yourself that," Shepard replied, looking over to Garrus as his tone became more somber. "It's not just her, though. You've been there since the beginning. When we met I was just another soldier that only cared about the mission."

He sat the beer bottle down next to him on the ledge and leaned forward, looking out at the Presidium below.

"Get the job done, don't get attached. That was my mantra. I thought I could do it all alone. After Akuze and with the work I did for the Alliance... it taught me that trust got you killed. Now I realize that if I hadn't had someone I could trust, implicitly, I'd have been dead a dozen times by now. And if there's one thing in this universe I can trust it's Garrus Vakarian."

The two shared a look for moment before Garrus gave him a slight nod, his mandibles curling in a smile. Shepard picked up his beer once more and took a swig.

"You're not going to propose marriage now, are you?"

His coughing fit only inspired an equally strong fit of laughter from his turian companion.

"You're a son of a bitch, you know that, Vakarian?"

"Yea, but I'm your son of a bitch," Garrus replied.

The turian got to his feet and offered Shepard a hand up with a clasped wrist. After they were standing Garrus held the grip for a moment longer, meeting his gaze.

"One way or the other this ends with us side by side, Shepard. What you said back on Utukku… before it all went to hell? I never had a brother either. But I'd have been honored to call you as much. Human or not."

Shepard smiled and nodded, returning the tight grip.

"Shepard and Vakarian. To the end."

Garrus raised his bottle.

"Shepard and Vakarian."

They broke the clasp and the turian turned his attention to the rifle that Shepard had forgotten. It was resting against the side of the aircar before Garrus picked it up and seated an ammo block into it. With the flick of a button the weapon unfolded and hummed to life.

"And now… you're going to shoot me?"

"No. We're going to settle something once and for all up here, Shepard. I know that you can handle one of these… but some of us know how to make it dance."

Shepard laughed.

"Some people have seen me in action, Garrus. They were generally pretty impressed."

"Maybe, but I wrote the book on long ranged combat. So let's really see who's the best. It's loaded with frangibles and I've dialed down the power so no worries about taking out a poor civilian when you miss."

"So what's the rules?" he asked.

Garrus reached down, picked up one of the empty bottles, and tossed it to him before pointed upwards.

"Throw, as hard and far out as you can get it. Fire when the bottle reaches the top of the next skyway. A few hundred meters, buffeting winds, with a split second to make the shot. What do you say?"

"I say… are you sure? I wouldn't want to crush your dreams, Garrus," Shepard answered.

"You might be a biotic, cybernetically enhanced super-soldier at this point, Shepard, but if there's one area that I can beat you? This is it."

"Game on."

The turian took the first shot. Giving himself a long wind up Shepard hurled the bottle as far and as fast out as he could. As predicted the winds this high in the ring were strong and the light-weight bottle tumbled sideways in the gusts. Just as it reached the line of the first skyway there was a crack… and the bottle shattered.

"Not bad. Now it's my turn," Shepard said.

Garrus gave as good as he got, a long throw that sent the bottle spinning wildly into space. He pressed the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and exhaled slowly, tracking the tiny glass container. Slowly down and then… squeezed. The round hit perfectly, disintegrating the target.

"Lucky shot," Garrus scoffed.

One after another they continued their contest. Garrus would give the bottle a hard curve, once Shepard even gave his throw a small biotic push. Each time a shot rang out and a bottle disappeared. They would both down a beer and set up for another shot. After ten minutes two bottles remained. Shepard hurled with all his might only to watch as another one popped with a precision shot from Garrus.

"Last one," the turian said, the bottle hooked over one talon. "Should have brought more bottles… hard to prove my superiority with only a few record making shots."

"Do it."

Garrus took a few steps back and really put his entire lanky frame into the throw, sending the bottle tumbling out to be caught by a perfect crosswind that had it swaying back and forth. He eased into the rifle once against and drew a bead. Time slowed down. He realized in that moment that he wasn't angry at all anymore. That for half an hour he had just felt like a normal human being enjoying time with a friend.

The bottle began its downward arc, end over end until it reached the skyway line. Shepard lined up the shot and slowly squeezed the trigger… and then gave a final jerk ever so slightly to the side. A boom rang out across the open sky. The bottle continued to tumble down into the lake below.

"I am Garrus Vakarian and _this_ is now my favorite spot on the Citadel!" the turian crowed.

Shepard lowered the rifle and shook his head.

"Windy up here."

"Uh huh. I think I'm going to take that rifle and get it bronzed, maybe have it mounted right next the krogan statue down there so the whole galaxy knows!"

"That you're king of the bottle shooters?" Shepard asked wryly. "I'll be sure to call you when the bottles revolt."

"Don't be sad about losing, Shepard. I'll try to frame your defeat in a noble manner when I'm telling Tali and Kasumi about this after we get back to the ship."

Shepard settled the rifle on his shoulder and looked at the turian's armored back as he gathered up the few remaining bits of trash and began walking towards the aircar. A smile spread across his face.

"I'll be there to hear it," he replied and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Now let's get back to work."

* * *

><p><em>Reports of my demise are once again exaggerated. Sorry for the extra long delay but hopefully its made up for with a fairly long chapter. Things are moving swiftly now as pieces fall into place and the endgame approaches!<em>


	34. Chapter 33: Burning Bright

Chapter 33: Burning Bright

The air itself was chaos. Biotic energy rippled around him and the staccato rhythm of weapons fire had become almost mundane. Even through his helmet there was a sickening smell of ozone, blood, and smoke. His muscles burned with fatigue, fingers numb from the constant recoil of his assault rifle. And some small part of Thomas Carmichael was actually starting to enjoy it.

Admittedly there was the unabashed terror of their breakneck charge through Omega's dimly lit streets that tempered the experience. The adjutants seemed endless in number. But Miranda and Jack were moving at the fore of the group with a speed that varied between a jog and a full on sprint, tearing through any opposition with raw biotic power while Aria and Nyreen covered the flanks. That left him and Zaeed to provide covering fire. It was a pace that didn't leave much time for fear or doubt.

It was a small mercy in and of itself. While his blood was pumping and his focus was on survival it didn't give him much time to think about the cost of his decision. Few bodies littered the streets that they were moving through… the adjutants were far more sinister than that. The evidence of their victims were the adjutants themselves, some still wearing shreds of workers coveralls or hazard suits. Reminders that the creatures had once been fellow humans, asari, or salarians.

"Sit down!" Zaeed yelled beside him.

The secondary barrel of his worn rifle flared to life and fired a blue tinged bolt, effectively a micro-concussion grenade, that took one of the pursuing adjutants full in the chest. A half-second later the blast sent the creature flying backwards, impacting the heavy steel railing with a crunch before flipping head over feet and tumbling over to its demise. Jack's bellow interrupted any words of praise he might have had for the shot.

"Move your asses!"

"Keep your knickers on," Zaeed growled back, pumping a quick burst into the next closest adjutant and backing through the doorway that Jack was waving them through. "Just cleaning up here."

As soon as they were through the door slammed shut. A biotic glow suffused the frame and there was a groan of tortured metal. He watched as the frame warped. It was one door that wouldn't be opening again anytime soon. A steady thump of the creatures beating fruitlessly against the steel was the only sound other than their heavy breathing for a few long moments. Carmichael slumped back against the wall.

He didn't know how long it was before his pulse slowed enough that he didn't feel like he was on the verge of throwing up. It wasn't long after that that he began to wish they hadn't stopped, though, as the reality of the situation began to intrude. They were running for their lives from hundreds, even thousands, of abominations. And he'd been the one to let them loose into the station. He barely paid attention to the conversation going on over his head.

"That will buy us a few minutes," Nyreen commented. "We're going to run out of ammo before we run out of monsters before long."

"Reaching Petrovsky's command center is our only option. Petrovsky is a pragmatist. If he's lost he'll surrender. Once we have control of Omega's defenses we can turn the main guns against the Cerberus fleet and Alliance forces can storm the station," Miranda stated calmly. "We have the forces available to put down the adjutants."

The turian shook her head doubtfully.

"Assuming there's anyone left to save by the time they get here."

"Omega won't be too much worse off with a few less natives," Jack snapped. "Might want to worry less about the lifespan of the average scum and more about getting out of here alive."

Nyreen's mandibles flared angrily and her talons curled.

"You might not care about anyone but yourself, but there are innocent people on this station."

"Don't give me that bullshit, cuttlebone. I know all about the 'good people' of Omega," the convict replied, rolling her eyes. "The only time I've come to this shithole and someone hasn't tried to rob, rape, or kill me was because I was rolling with Shepard."

"'We don't have time for you birds to debate philosophy," Zaeed cut in.

Miranda nodded.

"Zaeed is right. We have to keep moving."

The pilot groaned inside his helmet, but pushed himself to his feet.

"You're not dead yet," Zaeed said behind him, punctuating his words with a slap that he felt even through his armor.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep up with you guys," Carmichael replied wearily.

It wasn't an exaggeration. The human body could only pump out so much adrenaline, only operate at over a hundred percent for so long. He had the most basic set of military gene modifications, ones that cleared up small lingering genetic defects, processed oxygen a little better, and other tiny improvements. But those small boosts were the only thing that had even gotten him this far.

"You keep up because you goddamn well have to, or you die. No better motivation than that, Kid," the merc countered. "A man gives up, he's dead at that second. Sometimes just takes a little longer for it to catch up."

"I'm not a fucking hard ass mercenary," Carmichael snapped suddenly, the aches and fatigue making him temporarily ignore the voice in the back of his mind that told him mouthing off to a man with Zaeed's reputation was a bad idea.

The reaction was swift and surprising, he found himself slammed hard against the bulkhead with Zaeed's hand on the shoulder of his armor.

"Listen up, you little shit. You want to give up? Then fine, but you're not going to get the rest of us killed. So you can stay here and let those things rip your guts out or you can man up! Because if a man knows he's going to die then he makes it goddamn well mean something!"

Carmichael waved a hand weakly in the direction of the others.

"I'm a pilot. I don't… Whatever this is… I'm not one of you."

Miranda turned and fixed him with a stare, hard and cold. One that brooked no argument, not even a hint of dissent. It was like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped in his armor.

"Today you are."

* * *

><p>"Stand, primitives! Stand and fight!"<p>

Dozens of people were screaming, even more were running too fast to make even that much sound. A panicked herd of flesh that ran past as Javik bellowed over his protests. And behind them the unearthly howls that were the source of their fear. One of the screams cut off abruptly.

Omega's dirty streets were even dimmer under the flickering lights and emergency back ups that kicked on and off as the powergrid seemed to go wild. The first warning had been distant sounds of panic. Not long after the first civilians had made it to the Alliance soldiers. Fear had made them barely comprehensible, but not much explanation was needed when more and more came. And the first wave of adjutants had followed after.

"Squads three and seven, secure the right flank and get these people secure!" Vega barked into his comms, vaulting onto the roof of an aircar to get a better view.

He tucked the rifle tight into his shoulder and squeezed the trigger, rounds streaked into the dim light of Omega and struck the nearest adjutant in the chest. The recoil pulled the barrel upwards, tearing into its pale flesh. The soldier brought the weapon back under control and placed the next burst straight into the thing's face. Around him more of the Alliance soldiers rallied, taking up kneeling positions as the panicked civilians began to thin.

"We need to get to a better position, Sir!" one of the men said, leaning into the aircar's fender to take up a firing position.

"No time, civilians can't move as fast as us. We need time for Three and Seven to get them locked down."

"But Sir-"

"These things do not make it past us! Is that understood?" Vega yelled, repeating himself a second later when there wasn't an immediate response. "I said is that understood!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Another adjutant leapt down from a nearby catwalk, towards a group of stumbling refugees that had almost made it to their lines, but it never reached the ground. A crackling field of energy stopped it in mid air, followed by a concentrated packet of energy slamming into it from over the soldiers heads. The detonation that followed shredded the adjutant and sent what little remained of it flying back into the darkness.

"You're more like him than I thought, Vega," a voice came from behind him.

"Who, Ma'am?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

The Commander had told them all about the timid young archaeologist that had joined his crew during the hunt for Saren. But just like the hot-head inexperienced cop or the shy quarian mechanic the image Liara cast now showed no hint of those old stories. Her armor was stained with ichor, a pistol gripped tightly in her left hand with the right still crackled with biotic power.

"Shepard. I understand now why he likes you. You're just as stubborn and uncompromising."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was," the asari replied, a small, knowing smile crossing her features for a brief second. "Here they come."

The emerged from the darkness in a tide of grey flesh and glowing eyes. A heartbeat later the street was illuminated by a dozen flashes of weapons fire, rounds tearing into the front ranks but barely slowing the oncoming assault.

"I have had enough of these pathetic creatures!" Javik snarled and stepped past the front rank of soldiers.

The prothean had apparently picked up not one, but two of the heavy squad support Revenant machine guns and was apparently long past caring about ammo efficiency. Vega watched in amazement as Javik opened up and held both weapons' climbing barrels down, forcing control on the mechanical equivalent of two raging bulls. A deafening roar of fire joined the already steady hail of bullets.

What had once been an unstoppable tide suddenly broke under the weight of fire. Adjutants riddled bodies began to fall and rounds tore into those behind. Shockwaves of biotic energy followed seconds later and scattered even more with bone shattering force. A few last weapons died down as the last of the adjutants collapsed into a heap.

"See, Javik? Our primitive weapons are useful after all," Vega said.

The warrior looked down at the paired machine guns, barrels cherry red, and tossed the now empty weapons to the ground before pulling the particle rifle from his back.

"They were sufficient."

"Vega, do you copy?" Miranda's voice said suddenly from the comm.

"I copy!" he replied immediately. "What's your status? Everything is going crazy here."

"We were forced to reset the station's power grid. All of Cerberus' barriers are down, the adjutants have free run of the station. We're pushing to Afterlife now. The only way to stop this is to neutralize the General and regain control of the station's mainframe."

"Understood, we've secured our immediate area, trying to get civilians into cover. Do you need support?"

"You can't spare troops or you'll be overrun. Hold position, Vega. The only way this works is if we succeed and the Alliance can land troops. Your men wouldn't be able to make it to us in time."

Vega glanced at the assembled soldiers. She was right, they weren't low on ammo yet but they were already tired. Trying to fight block to block would leave them exhausted. His eyes settled on Liara and the hulking form of a rachi brood warrior. The aliens both looked almost black in the red emergency light.

"Copy that, we'll hold position. But I've got a little help I can send your way. Vega out."

"What is the status of the one you call Miranda?" Javik asked immediately.

"Still alive, but they're outnumbered. Liara, ah… Fury?"

_We are ready to serve, Sings-Strength!_

"Thanks, big guy. Do you think the two of you can make it through to link up with Miranda's team? A full assault force is going to get bogged down, but two biotics…"

"Will be able to move faster than anyone else," Liara agreed. "Do you have their location?"

Vega nodded and tapped his omni-tool.

"Last transmission came from here."

"Let's go. Ready, Fury?" the asari asked.

_We are always ready, Watchful-Singer._

* * *

><p>"Nyreen, left flank! Carmichael, suppressive fire rear!"<p>

Miranda extended her hand and squeezed, the biotic energy that she'd wrapped around the nearest adjutant mimicking the physical motion. With another jerk of her hand the creature was slammed against the nearby bulkhead and then hurled into the approaching pack of adjutants.

"Move, Cheerleader!"

Without thinking Miranda rolled to the side just in time to dodge the claws of another adjutant that had ripped through the grating overhead. A blast of biotic energy from Jack ripped it from the ceiling and sent it tumbling after the other creature that Miranda had just dispatched. She spared a brief glance back at the former convict. Of all the people to save her life.

How much longer that life would be was up for debate. The adjutants seemed endless, emerging from every corridor and maintenance duct. Clearly Petrovsky had carefully funneled as many of the things into their path as he could, anticipating their denial of his offer. The man left little to chance. Miranda let out a frustrated yell and sent another wave of biotic energy crashing into the adjutants ahead of them.

"We can't keep this up," Nyreen's flanged voice yelled over the din. "It's still almost a kilometer to Afterlife's level!"

The turian had an M-3 Predator in each hand, placing careful shots into the approaching adjutants from the west corridor. Each round found its way between a creature's eyes or into vulnerable joints, slowing their rush. Even she had to admire Nyreen's level-headedness considering the situation.

"The main power-conduit!" Aria replied.

Nyreen's head snapped to the side briefly.

"That's suicide!"

"Everything is fucking suicide at this point!" Zaeed responded without even looking back, his precious assault rifle bucking in his grip as he laid down fire in methodical bursts.

"How do we get there?" Miranda asked.

"Corridor ahead, then we have to drop straight down. Look for a heavy blast door, yellow markings," the asari explained. "Access code nine nine four three eight."

She nodded. There was no time to wonder what exactly constituted suicide in Nyreen's eyes, they were dead if they stayed where they were for certain. She caught Jack's eyes and jerked her hand harshly to the back.

"Jack, shockwave behind us! Carmichael, Zaeed, take point! Aria and Nyreen will provide a shield. We're pushing through."

To their credit, everyone acted without hesitation. Both men lowered their rifles and spun on their heels, moving to the front while she and Jack took their place. The former convict let out a wild howl and a wave of dark energy rippled across the deckplating with enough force that the metal grating began to twist and heave. Waiting a half-second Miranda followed up with a surge of her own power.

The two fields interacted with predictably explosive results that in such tight confines reduced the pursuing adjutants to little more than gore and sparks. Miranda ignored the heavy wave of fatigue that rolled over her from pushing out so much power so quickly and motioned for Jack to follow. The others were already charging ahead. There was no time to slow down. To her surprise she could hear Jack laughing next to her as they ran, even if it was a rather ragged sound.

"You're more fun when you cut loose instead of being an uptight bitch, you know that?"

Miranda didn't bother replying and merely rolled her eyes. Their push was succeeding, the adjutants being rocked back by the sudden offensive. Within half a minute they had made it to the access hatch. It was as Aria had said: a heavy blast door two meters wide in the floor and marked with bright yellow caution indicators. Carmichael knelt down to jab at the control panel with shaking fingers. He still managed it on the first try.

Without hesitation Aria leapt feet first down into the hole. The others followed, Jack beating her by a few feet. Leaping into a dark hole wasn't Miranda's idea of a good idea but she had to assume that Aria's enlightened self-interested would have prevented her from jumping to her certain death.

She landed with a heavy thump on hard grating after a brief fall, tucking into it and rolling to bleed off her momentum. Overhead the blast door slammed shut. It was even darker here than in the poorly lit streets above and it took a few seconds for Miranda's eyes to adjust. The only illumination seemed to come from an ambient golden glow located somewhere below them.

Once she could see more clearly, the one-time Cerberus rising star sucked in a breath. Barely a meter to her left the metal grating simply stopped and gave way to a wide open expanse that was bathed in yellow light. If her little roll had carried her much farther she would have plunged right into it.

"Where the hell are we?" Carmichael asked shakily.

"Main power conduits, Omega's arteries… these big shafts run through the station's heart," Aria explained. "Not much to look at but unlike everywhere else they're completely sealed off from the rest of the station by hyper-dense alloy."

"Any reason we didn't come down here to start with instead of fighting fucking space zombies for the last hour?" Jack snapped.

Nyreen let out a sound that was somewhere between a hiss and a sigh.

"What Aria neglects to mention is that Omega's power distribution system is plasma based and is literally thousands of years old," the turian said. "The walls and blast doors are so thick because if the line ruptures it's going to flood the entire conduit in ionized plasma."

"I'm no engineer but that seems bad, but also unlikely to be a regular occurrence… right?" Carmichael asked.

This time it was Aria that frowned, which in normal circumstances would have been a nice change from her usual look of smug satisfaction in Miranda's opinion. In this case it was merely worrying. The asari waved a hand up and down the length of what must have been the conduit itself that they were standing on.

"She's right, these things were built before my mother was even alive. Omega isn't the Citadel, we don't have Keepers running around fixing everything. And there have never been Council Hazard and Safety protocols to follow out here. It's… possible that a mass accelerator round or an explosion could penetrate the conduit."

"Possible? If I scratch too hard with my talons I might rupture one of these seams," Nyreen snorted.

"So we're walking on a big goddamn bomb. Great," was Zaeed's only input.

"We're safe from the adjutants at the moment, how close will this get us to Afterlife?" Miranda asked.

"Close," Aria said with a nod in the direction ahead to them. "There's a junction every kilometer or so. If we make it to the next one it should put us only a block from the main plaza in front of Afterlife."

"Then let's move."

After the frantic sprint of the last hour or so, the near silence of the power conduit was almost eerie. A low hum came from the conduit itself but the only other sound was their boots on the metal grating and the sound of their breathing. With each step Miranda did her best to ignore the throbbing in her head and instead try to formulate a plan to finally remove Petrovsky's mad regime.

* * *

><p>There weren't very many days that Zaeed truly felt old. A regimen of the best enhancements and supplements that credits could buy and grueling physical training kept him in a form that would be envied by men half his age. But sometimes he was reminded that no man could out run time. Damned if he hadn't been trying, though.<p>

The burning in his lungs and the pain in his knees made this one of those very special days when he felt every one of his six decades even if he refused to show it outwardly. He couldn't help but smirk at the kid trudging along beside him. Greener than hell, but he had talent if he could learn to stomach the work. It was also a little gratifying to note that the kid seemed even more out of breath than he was.

"Fucking hot in this tube," he complained to no one in particular.

The rest of them weren't looking fresh and happy either. Nyreen was a turian, her kind never much showed anything but a man learned to pick up on the signs after enough years fighting and killing their kind. Crest pressed back against the head, mandibles moving in an almost panting motion. And of course there was the Ice Princess. He gave her credit for being near the top of the hardass bitch food chain which was quite the accomplishment considering the kind of women he usually met, but he'd still caught a few stumbling steps as they'd moved in the darkness.

"There, just ahead," Aria said, breaking the long silence that had built up as they walked.

It was a mirror of the way they'd just come. One large blast door overhead with a metal ladder leading up, with a second blast door that obviously headed to the next section of conduit. Miranda pushed back her sweat slicked hair and nodded.

"Form up," she said tiredly.

"Hold your horses, Princess," Zaeed interrupted. "Goddamn monsters haven't found a way in here yet. If you're going to catch your breath now's the time to do it."

"Catch our breath? People are being slaughtered up there!" Nyreen objected.

He shrugged.

"And when one of you four passes out from throwing all those biotics around? One those things tear your lungs out faster than you can blink. That gonna keep those civilians from being slaughtered?"

"Typical mercenary," the turian hissed. "Can't spend money if you're dead, right?"

"You want to be a goddamn martyr you're welcome to give it a go."

"At least I believe in something more than my next credit transfer!"

Zaeed narrowed his one good eye at the turian and snorted.

"If you think being a self-righteous harpy is going to make me feel bad for your bunch of freedom fighters, you've got another thing coming. I'm here because Shepard said that he needed someone that could deal with the worst. So yea, I believe in something… I believe that bloody nut job is the best chance this galaxy has got. Beyond that you can go fuck yourself."

Next to him he heard Miranda exhale in a frustrated sigh.

"Massani is right. Five minutes might be the difference between a fatal mistake and the success of this mission. The hard truth is that this station is the mission, not the people on it. If we save a hundred civilians but lose the war it will be for nothing."

He continued to watch the turian. Clearly an equally furious internal argument was waging behind her eyes, but finally the fight went out of her and her shoulders slumped. Nyreen shook her head and walked past the ladder, leaning her back against the blast door to the next conduit and sliding down the wall into a sitting position.

"What's the point of winning the war if we sacrifice everything along the way?" she asked.

"Long as you're still alive, it ain't over," Jack replied, speaking up for the first time. "Worry about surviving, everything else comes later."

"Everyone take ten, if you've got rations or water now's the time to make use of them," Miranda ordered.

The mercenary suppressed a groan as he eased down to sit on the grated metal. He reached to his belt, producing an energy bar and tearing into the wrapper with his teeth before spitting with plastic out. He took a big bite and began to chew.

Whatever levo-amino lifeform had originally designed the high energy ration bar had clearly been trying to replicate something approaching a chocolate candy bar. They had succeeded only in the barest sense of the word. There was a faint sweetness to the chewy mass, but the texture was a combination of wood glue and uncooked grain with a tackiness that made every bite grip the roof of a man's mouth with amazing tenacity.

"Oh my god this is awful," Carmichael choked next to him, fingers scrabbling at the hip pouch to pull out the squeeze flask of water and taking a desperate gulp.

Zaeed swallowed and slapped the younger man on the back.

"They grow on you. Eat enough of these things, or get your hands on one after you've been hiding in a trench for three damn days, and it'll taste like heaven."

"More like you killed all your taste buds with rot gut years ago, old man," Jack suggested around a mouthful of her own ration bar. "These things taste like pralines and dick."

Of course even as she mocked the convict was rapidly devouring the very item she was disparaging while laying on her back, one hand propping her head up. Jack gave him an arched eyebrow and an amused smirk. In the pulsing yellow glow of the plasma conduits it looked as if her many tattoos were moving on her own. Zaeed laughed quietly to himself. If he was twenty years younger…

"Are they always this… chatty?" Aria asked dryly, looking to Miranda.

The former Cerberus operative shrugged.

"In my experience? Yes. People that serve with Shepard tend to have a rather casual view of life or death situations."

"Told ya he's a bloody nut job. No wonder I like'em," the mercenary agreed.

A few minutes of silence fell after that other than the sounds of plastic wrappers being torn, chewing, and the slosh of water in little plastic flasks. Station full of robot zombie creatures, sitting in a plasma conduit that had to be almost a hundred degrees and it still wasn't the least pleasant meal Zaeed had ever had.

"You know, if I live through this even I'm going to have a hard time believing I was really here," Carmichael said to Zaeed suddenly. "Seems like a screwed up dream."

"Take a scar back with you. Time honored tradition," Zaeed suggested.

"Doesn't sound like fun."

"Nobody said shit about fun, but you'll damn sure remember it every time you look in the mirror."

Carmichael finished his ration bar and threw the crumpled wrapper over the edge into the darkness. When he spoke the tone was more melancholy.

"But how do you ever feel normal again? I'm not sure what the word means now. After you do something like this…"

"Like hitting a button that kills a bunch of people?" he grunted in response.

The younger man flinched as if struck, but nodded.

"Way I look at that sorta shit, you've got a couple options," Zaeed said, ticking off points on his fingers. "You can start drinking, always a classic. Kills you before long though. You can become one of those types like Nyreen over there, always on some kind of goddamn quest to save the little people. Or you can just figure that you're still kicking so life can't be too bad."

"None of those sound great."

"All about how you deal with your shit. Me? I don't usually hang around with groups, lucky if you're not stabbed in the back before the weeks out. Shepard's a different animal. Collects stray crazy like he's some kind of savant. And to top it all off they're all loyal as hell."

"Doesn't that include you too?" Carmichael asked.

The old mercenary chuckled.

"You don't meet many honest people in your life, kid, especially ones that are willing to put their money where their mouth is. That's Shepard. Tells you he's going to do something and he goddamn well does it, even if you don't like it. So yea, that man says he needs something… I figure it's in my best interest to make sure he gets it. Enlightened self-interest."

A groan came from behind them, both turning to see Aria rolling her eyes.

"Goddess…you really have become a sap in your old age. Where is the hardass Zaeed Massani that told me that friends were how a man got himself killed?"

The asari pushed herself up and moved with the kind of grace that only decades of practice could provide. She rested her hands on Carmichael's shoulders, causing him to immediately stiffen. Maybe the kid wasn't a complete idiot. At least he recognized danger when it was right behind him.

"You want the truth, Mr. Carmichael?" she asked, voice rolling like smooth smoke as she continued.

"Death matters when you're the one that might die. For all the rules and laws to 'help the people' that the Council likes to promote, this is a universe of cold hard math. The strong survive, the weak get eaten. Survivors are the ones that have the most money, the most power, and the most influence... or the ones smart enough bet on the right side."

"I… I can't believe that," the pilot said shakily. "Just because someone isn't willing to do anything to get to the top shouldn't mean that they don't matter."

"People matter when they do something to make themselves matter," Aria replied with effortless nonchalance. "You made that decision already. Those people that the adjutants killed weren't helping the war effort, they weren't fighting, building, or supporting your mission. So you sacrificed them to make sure your mission succeeded, because that did matter."

Omega's one-time queen patted the young man on the shoulder and walked away, still speaking.

"You did the math. When it came time to solve the equation you saw which side the balance was on you made the right decision. Casualties are the rounding errors of the calculus of power."

Zaeed didn't say anything, instead just letting the kid sit in silence. He didn't entirely disagree with Aria's assessment, sometimes it did just come down to the numbers. It was why people like him had a job. Kill a dozen, save a hundred. At least that's what he always figured the types who hired him told themselves if the cared at all.

"Nice pep talk," Jack said sardonically.

She moved to stand and then grabbed Carmichael under his arms, yanking the pilot to his feet with a yelp of surprise. Another one came a second later when she slapped him hard on his armored ass.

"Ignore the blue bitch. You just keep doing what you're doing, maybe I'll introduce you to a few of my kids when we get outta here," the convict added. "Vasquez is cute and sure you could score some points with a war story as good as this one. Fuck knows she could use a boyfriend that isn't a crush on one of those fucking tri-vid stars."

"I… uh…"

"I think that's enough downtime," Miranda interrupted sternly, though Zaeed swore he could see a hint of a smirk on her lips in the darkness. "Zaeed, you're on point as usual. Nyreen you're right behind. Jack and Carmichael you've got rearguard."

Everyone began checking weapons, reloading partially spent heatsinks and yanking on armor straps to make sure everything was still in place. None of them looked any fresher than they had before their little break, but faces looked slightly less strained. Best they were going to be able to manage all things considered.

Zaeed moved to the ladder and pulled himself up, rifle hanging from the sling across his chest. He gripped the ladder with one hand and keyed in the code with the other, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder as the blast door's seals hissed open.

"Listen to Jack, kid. Women love the stories, I've got hundreds but you're young. Have to start somewhere and this-"

Pain exploded from his left shoulder and he felt himself falling. The metal grating slammed into his back while a massive weight threatened to crush the air from his lungs. Operating purely on instinct, Zaeed snapped his forward in a vicious headbutt that knocked his assailant backwards until the weight was pressed on his thighs.

"Shut the fucking blast door!" he heard someone scream and the staccato report of a weapon firing.

He didn't have time to pay attention to what was going on around him. The adjutant on top of him drove its claws down in a sweep that tore into his armor and he heard a yell of pain, distantly recognizing it as his own.

"Motherfucker!" Zaeed roared.

In one vicious motion he threw his upper body forward and drove his forehead into the adjutant's face again. His left arm wouldn't move but it didn't matter, with his right he found Jessie's polymer grip and yanked the rifle backwards until it was tucked against his side. No need for muzzle control when your enemy was practically sitting on your chest.

He squeezed down on the trigger and didn't let go. Jessie didn't disappoint, roaring to life and pumping rounds from inches away into the creature's chest. The rifle only felt silent with it gave a mournful bleat and began to hiss with excess heat, by then the adjutant was a riddled mass of flesh that slumped off of him to the side. The mercenary let out a long breath and slumped backwards.

"Zaeed!"

Arms slipped under his back, pushing him back upright. His vision blurred for a second as pain screamed through his left side before clearing. Jack knelt to his right, propping him up while Miranda was on the other side with a glowing omni-tool at the ready.

"Shoulders dislocated," he said through gritted teeth. "Get me up!"

No one argued and he bit back another hiss of pain as the two managed to get him to his feet. Around them two more adjutants lay dead and broken, blue-black ichor splattering the ladder, blast door, and grating around them. He shook his head and moved to the edge of the ladder. And then slammed his shoulder against it.

This time he did cry out but he felt the joint slide back into place, a strange combination of aches and numbness radiating from his shoulder to fingertips. Miranda approached against and keyed something on her tool before extending it towards him.

"Save it!" he snapped.

"It's just omni-gel old man," Jack chided.

"I know what the fuck it is."

Zaeed met Miranda's gaze and held it for a long minute. Realization quickly dawned in her eyes, followed by the briefest moment of what actually looked like sadness before the wall went up again. Oddly it made him smile. The ice queen wasn't frozen all the way through, even for a mercenary like him.

"Look, I think we got the whole 'hardass super soldier thing' down," Carmichael spoke up. "I'm super impressed, you just… relocated your own shoulder. I didn't even know you could do that. But if you don't use some medigel to stop that bleeding-"

"I'll die a few minutes faster," the mercenary cut him off, activating his own omni-tool.

He felt the tiny sting of needles in his thigh and a flood of relief. Not enough to slow him down, especially with the stimulants mixed in, but enough to take the edge off. Enough to give him a few minutes of clear thinking. Closing his eyes for a brief moment Zaeed leaned back against the ladder.

"Did you get a count on how many were up there?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"My omni-tool got off on mapping pulse," Miranda confirmed. "There are… hundreds."

"They were waiting. Knew we were coming," the mercenary grunted. "Now they've got dinner in a convenient box. Just smart enough to be dangerous."

Nyreen spoke for the first time since their previous argument then, voice low and steady.

"The adjutants are predators. I don't know if they're really sapient… they get fixated easily. But they know how to set up an ambush. Know how to go around well defended positions."

"How did they know we'd pop up here?" Jack demanded.

"There's only so many exits from these conduits," Nyreen explained. "This was the next closest one. Half the adjutants in Omega must have congregated up there waiting for us."

"Half, huh?" Zaeed muttered to no one in particular, glancing upwards. "Good a way as any. Been a long time coming."

With a grimace he pushed off the ladder, taking a few painful steps over to Carmichael and met the younger man's gaze. The pilot looked confused as Zaeed stood there, studying him for almost a full minute. Then with a shrug he let the strap to his rifle fall off his shoulder, turned it in his grip, and held out the gun stock first to Carmichael.

"You've got potential, kid. Lot of goddamn potential. Most people lose their heads once the shit hits the fan. Ones that can keep it together when everything is on the line? They're one in a million."

"W-What?" the pilot stammered.

Zaeed growled.

"Take the fucking rifle."

The younger man quickly complied, grabbing the weapon in shaky hands.

"Remember what I told you about the old girl? Jessie's not a slick hotrod, she's a workhorse. Made of stern stuff. Triggers a little light, you'll get used to that. Careful on the long bursts or she'll cook on you."

"Why?" Carmichael said incredulously. "This gun… it… she… you sounded like it was your favorite thing in the universe."

He snorted, and winced as the movement made his side burn like fire.

"Just because you love something doesn't mean you want it to die with you, kid."

"Die? You're Zaeed Massani… you've survived everything…"

"Nobody survives everything."

Zaeed reached down and pulled back the shredded armor at his side. It was slick with blood that dripped down the yellow and gray plating. Three ragged slashes had been ripped almost to the bone and the bleeding edges of the cuts were already turning pallid and gray. When Carmichael still looked bewildered it was Nyreen that spoke up.

"Adjutants reproduce by creating more of their kind from their victims. Their skin is covered in nanites… a few and your body can fight them off. Too many and they reach critical mass and begin to self-replicate faster than you can kill them."

"You either kill'em or you become them," the mercenary summarized.

"What do we do?" Carmichael asked hollowly.

"Miranda's got the plan I'm sure," Zaeed said, glancing at the dark haired woman.

She nodded.

"The next conduit is fully sealed, correct, Aria? It should have another exit a kilometer further down?"

"Correct," the asari agreed. "It's not directly on the same level as Afterlife but it will put us within a sprint of the main courtyard."

All in all it wasn't a complicated plan and he quickly tuned it out. Zaeed knew his part in it all. As much of his life had been spent fighting he found himself oddly… accepting of what was coming. Sixty odd years, half of them spent burning with a hatred that would have been the envy of stars. He'd been the only man left so many times. Maybe it was only right that he was the one staying behind one last time.

It didn't mean he wasn't going to take a whole lot of sons of bitches with him. He did a quick inventory of his remaining gear. Pistol on his hip, plenty of mags. A touch at the small of his back with his good arm told him his little insurance package was still there too. More than a few nights he'd wondered just how it would end. There was comfort in knowing that he'd predicted correctly.

"Zaeed?" Miranda asked.

"I'm ready."

"I've modified the overhead keypad we open the blast door to the next conduit it will trigger an automatic open sequence ninety seconds later."

He smirked.

"Plenty of time, Princess."

The former Cerberus operative paused then, and stopped, extending her hand.

"Mr. Massani. Is there anything you'd like me to..."

He reached out and took it, giving it a firm squeeze.

"Operative Lawson. Nothing too complicated, already sent a packet to your omni-tool that'll help. Take care of those and we'll be even."

"I will."

Aria had no interest in goodbyes other than a curt nod of her own, but he supposed it was more than most could say they'd gotten from the queen of Omega. He was more surprised when Nyreen offered her taloned hand as well. He took it all the same.

"Maybe I was wrong about you, Mr. Massani, or maybe you're just another merc in a bad spot. But my people have always believed that actions reveal the spirit's true nature. Spirits watch over you."

Then only Jack and Carmichael remained, the young pilot still looking uncomfortable.

"I don't feel right holding this gun," the pilot said lamely, voice thick.

"You'll get used to it. Treat her right and she'll have your back. Now shake my goddamn hand, boot."

"It… was an honor? I don't know what else to say," Carmichael replied as the two clasped wrists.

The old mercenary smirked.

"It'll do."

When he joined the others it was only Jack left staring at him. The tattooed biotic's eyes were shiny in the dim light and her voice was tight.

"If you weren't already hurt I'd punch you for being so fucking stupid."

"I made a career out of stupid, girl. It was bound to catch up at some point," he replied.

"What about retirement, beaches on Bekenstein, all the crap?" Jack asked.

"I'd be bored out of my fucking mind on a beach until I drank myself to death or murdered some dumb bastard get making my drink wrong and had to bolt. Time for you to go, girly. You got those kids out there to take care of after all."

Her eyes flashed as he held out his hand. Instead of taking it Zaeed found himself hissing in pain as two slim but amazingly strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. Lips pressed against his cheek for a long second as Jack whispered in his ear.

"I would have rocked your world, old man. Give'em hell."

Jack looked back on last time as Aria keyed in the access code for the blast doors and the team stepped through. As the doors slide closed she smiled at him. Not the mocking grin or vicious smirk. It was simple, barely a flash of teeth. But it warmed him even as he could feel the chill tingling at the tips of his fingers and in his legs.

Above him the keypad began to beep, its countdown starting. He wasted no time, limping back down the conduit in the direction they had originally come from. As he walked he pulled a few flares from his belt, popped them, and dropped them on the grating. The red magnesium fire brightened the long corridor.

He managed to clear three hundred yards when the loud metallic clang rang behind him, the blast door sliding open once more.

With a sigh, Zaeed turned around and sat heavily down on the grating. He pulled the pistol from its holster and sat it in front of him, adding the smaller one from his back next to it. Finally he reached behind him and pulled out a simple, silver cylinder. He depressed the button on the end with his thumb and slapped it down on the grating behind him.

The sounds of heavy bodies hitting the metal grating filled the conduit. Adjutants began to pour into the enclosed space, wasting no time in sprinting towards the injured mercenary. He picked up the first pistol and quickly emptied the magazine. The first four through died and tumbled over the side.

Dozens more followed. He picked up the other pistol, a hefty piece of equipment. Six rounds barked out in rapid succession. Six adjutants slumped lifelessly in the path of the oncoming hordes. Zaeed began to laugh.

"Retirement. Beaches. The fuck would I do on a beach?"

He reloaded the pistol and emptied the magazine again, the adjutants quickly closing the gap despite his precise fire. Three seconds, they'd be on top of him. There had to be close to fifty inside now with more pouring in. The mercenary leveled the pistol once more. Squeeze. One gray head exploded like overripe fruit. Squeeze. Another shot ripped through a knee, sending the creature spinning and crashing to the grating, knocked off the conduit to the open space below.

The nearest adjutant was barely ten meters away now, running at him at full speed. Four more shots and it tumbled into a flesh heap. He tossed the now empty pistol down in front of him.

"Come on, you ugly bastards. Got a present for you! Guess what happens when you combine thermite and a thousand year old metal conduit?"

A hundred bounding adjutants began to howl. The nearest gathered its muscular legs under it and leapt, sailing through the air with talons out stretched. Zaeed smiled. Loud and honest laughter echoing against the monstrous howls.

"Fuck retirement."

Zaeed pressed down on the detonator in his grip, the charge behind him roared as it activated. He gritted his teeth and smiled as the world became white fire.

"And fuck you."

* * *

><p>A shudder passed through the grating beneath her feet and instantly the conduit was plunged into darkness. Behind them was a thunderous roaring sound that trailed off in a matter of seconds. In the darkness Miranda briefly closed her eyes and thanked the battle-worn mercenary. Like many of those she had met aboard the Normandy he had proven himself more than his reputation… even in the end.<p>

She reached down and activated her omni-tool, illuminating the conduit in a crisper orange glow than before. The others quickly did the same with varying speed. Carmichael held Zaeed's battered old rifle tightly in one hand, his face set behind the visor of his helmet. One in a million the mercenary had said. Maybe he'd been right.

"Did the blast take out the power for the whole station?" he asked quietly.

Aria shook her head.

"Omega's old, but it was designed to last even if things break down. The system will reroute the plasma flow to secondary conduits and around the damaged area. Everything will be back to normal in minutes… well, except the blast area. That will be seared to slag."

She shot a warning glance at the asari, but Jack spoke up before Miranda could intervene. The response was amazingly restrained considering the source.

"That old man just saved your ass, bitch. If you can't wipe the smug off your face then at least shut the fuck up."

The convict pushed past Aria, heading towards the end of the conduit. Miranda gestured for the others to follow. Time wasn't on their side, especially for arguments and recriminations.

"Let's move," she ordered simply.

They reached the next blast door quickly. The tragedy of the last encounter was still fresh in mind and no chances were taken this time. Carmichael held himself on one side of the ladder high enough to key in the access code… the moment the doors slid open Jack launched herself upwards, wreathed in a biotic glow. Without hesitation Miranda followed, Nyreen and Aria just behind.

No horde of adjutants waited for them here. Half a dozen of the creatures turned in their direction as they emerged only to be quickly torn apart in a furious storm of biotics. Miranda's assumption had been right. The adjutants were clearly intelligent but only within certain bounds. Once the creatures had reached the conclusion of where they were likely to emerge they had swarmed in to lay in wait.

"How far to Afterlife?" Miranda asked.

"This way, five minutes if those were the only adjutants left," Aria replied, already moving in the indicated direction at a run.

Unlike most of Omega, this area had clearly been under Cerberus control. It was still worn and dirty, but there was little clutter and no bodies. Aluminum barricades were scattered around most likely from the adjutants. Lights and power were all in working order. If the lights within the various habitation blocks were any indication the citizens in the area were still alive and well within their cramped apartments.

Miranda almost stumbled in surprise when her comms sprang to life.

"Miranda?" Liara's voice said.

"Copy, where are you?"

"Near Afterlife, we're trying rendezvous with you. There was just a massive explosion a few blocks from here."

The former Cerberus operative grimaced.

"The plasma conduit detonated. Be careful, there could still be a large amount of adjutants in the surrounding area."

"Understood," Liara acknowledged. "We'll meet you in the main plaza."

No other adjutants attacked them as they ran through deserted streets, their armored boots ringing in the suddenly oppressive silence. One more turn brought the main plaza in front of Afterlife into sight. Immediately she spotted two Cerberus troopers take a knee at the double doors leading into the club.

"Carmichael, suppress!"

The young pilot didn't respond verbally, instead simply raising his inherited rifle and snapping off quick bursts as they ran. Rounds screamed and ricocheted off the barricades Cerberus had set up, but it had the desired effect. Both white armored soldiers ducked back into cover.

It was the last mistake they'd make. The biotics crossed the distance rapidly the soldiers found their cover torn away by blasts of crackling azure energy. A burst of rifle fire from Carmichael took one full in the chest while Aria dealt with the second, a biotically enhanced punch impacted with a sickening crunch.

"He has the doors secured with heavy encryption," Nyreen said, kneeling down next to the control panel. "What about the back way in?"

"It will be trapped or even mined. He's a smart son of a bitch," Aria replied with a sneer. "I had these doors installed myself. Two inches of silaris armor and heavy reinforcements on the structure of the frame."

Miranda looked to Nyreen.

"Can you crack the encrypt-"

Her question was interrupted by the crack of gunfire. She dove for cover, as did most of the others. Carmichael didn't have the same automatic instincts, however, and she saw him turn in place to bring his weapon up. She didn't even have time to shout a warning before a round slammed into his upper body and send him tumbling to the ground.

"Kid!" Jack yelled, trying to reach out and grab him before being forced to duck under another hail of fire.

The door frame provided little cover, but it was better than nothing. A dozen Cerberus troops were running into the plaza, weapons raised and firing. Behind the initial wave she saw heavier forces including the hulking mass of an Atlas combat mech and the telltale glimmer of at least two of their cybernetically enhanced snipers. Another trap.

"If we stay here we're dead!" Aria yelled. "Leave the damn pilot and make a run for the western alleyway!"

Miranda glanced at the fallen pilot and made a snap decision.

"Jack, I need a shield!"

The other biotic didn't hesitate, rising and stepping over the fallen Carmichael without a word. Miranda could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end at the sudden rush of power as Jack stood with her arms outstretched. Another volley of fire rained down on their position only to slam into an unyielding wall of energy.

Not wasting any time Miranda closed the distance to the fallen man and slid to one knee. While normally she would have been careful to move a wounded man, they didn't have the time for care. Not if they wanted to live. In one smooth motion she turned Carmichael on his back and held her breath.

"Fuck!"

The cry of pain gave Miranda a surprising sense of relief. Crimson coated her fingertips where she'd grabbed his arm and now she saw why. Around his left shoulder the armor was cracked, warm blood seeping through the fissures where it had shattered under the impact of the sniper's round.

"Hold on!" she snapped, activating her omni-tool to inject medigel directly into the hole in his armor. "Can you move?"

"Miranda!" Jack yelled overhead.

She saw the source of the biotics outburst and her eyes widened. The Atlas mech had entered the courtyard. In an instant that seemed to last for an eternity she watched it turn to bring the muzzle of the rocket launcher on its left arm to bear. A gout of flame burst forth and the explosive hurtled across the open space between them.

Miranda leapt to her feet and stood shoulder to shoulder with Jack, calling up every reserve of energy she had left and shoving it outward. As she did she screamed, every bit of unspoken frustration, disappoint, rage, and pain leaving her all at once. The barrier flared into blinding blue fire.

The impact felt as she'd just slammed into the windshield of a speeding aircar, waves of heat and force washing across her and driving her to her knees. Jack managed little better, dropping down until both of them were leaning shoulder to shoulder, panting. But their hands were still raised. Around them concrete was blackened and smoking, but those behind the barrier were alive and it still flickered weakly as they both struggled to maintain their concentration.

"Like… I said, more fun when you... cut loose," Jack coughed, her face was covered in a fine layer of ash and Miranda suspected she looked much the same.

She sucked in a breath as more small arms fire impacted the shimmer barrier. Sweat rolled down her forehead and clouded her vision.

"Have to move…"

Jack shook her head.

"If I move there's no way I can hold the barrier. Barely… barely keeping it up as it is. Never figured on… kicking it next to you, Cheerleader. Funny."

_Your songs are not ended, Caged-Singer! Only those with broken melodies will be silenced here! _

The voice boomed not aloud, but in a thunderous melody inside her head. It was like an explosion of orange and red behind her eyes. She blinked as a bright flash of blue energy erupted from the right of their position and Miranda watched as Cerberus troopers were hurled into the air like so much debris.

A massive bulk, almost half the size of the Atlas mech itself, streaked through the air and slammed into the mech's canopy. In a whirl of glimmering chitin and biotic flashes she watched in fascination as the rachni brood warrior tore the machine open like a ripened fruit, ripping out the soft flesh within. Even as the Atlas collapsed backward more explosions tore through the Cerberus ranks.

Liara T'Soni danced between enemy troops with enviable grace, lashing out with a flurry of biotic warps. The soldiers were thrown into complete disarray by the blitzkrieg. Nyreen and Aria quickly took advantage of the situation and launched a counterattack, charging from behind their meager cover in a blaze of fire. In less than a minute what had been a well orchestrated trap had turned into little more than a rout.

With a heavy sigh Miranda finally let go of the power she'd been holding and felt Jack do the same next to her. Both women got unsteadily to their feet as their saviours approached. The large rachni's chitin was pockmarked with bullet impacts and she could see greenish ichor dripping from a few places but if it felt any pain it didn't show it.

_We come to aid the Normandy-Hive_, Sings-Fury's mental voice sang into their minds.

"Thank you. It was… well timed," Miranda said tiredly and knelt back down to Carmichael. "Are you still with us, Lieutenant?"

The younger pilot had pulled his helmet off and she was able to clearly see the tightness in his muscles from the pain that must have been radiating from his shoulder, but he nodded stoically and managed to get to his knees. Jack grabbed him under his good arm and helped drag him into a standing position. He wavered for a moment but steadying.

"Yes, ma'am."

"The arm?"

"I… can't move it," Carmichael replied with a grimace. "But I can still hold a gun. I'm still with you."

_Your melody yet grows, and it has been intertwined with many great songs, Sings-Resolve. You will become a great brood warrior in time._

"Good," Miranda said, a ghost of a smile passing over her face as she saw the man jump when the rachni addressed him directly. "This isn't over yet."

Out of the corner of her eyes she watched Liara approach, glancing around and frowning as she spoke.

"Where is…"

The asari's voice trailed off as she met Miranda's gaze. In answer she simply shook her head sadly. Something flashed in the other woman's eyes and Liara spoke again.

"Is Petrovsky inside?"

"He has Afterlife locked down," Aria answered in her place. "He's turned my defenses against us and probably upgraded them with Cerberus tech."

"Short version: door is locked with heavy tech shit and fucking asari super armor," Jack interjected bitterly.

Nyreen gestured towards the controls.

"I can break the encryption but it will take a few minutes. I know Petrovsky. Every plan has a back up, a contingency. More forces are probably already on the way and we don't have a surprise for them this time. He knows that we won't have time to break in before we're forced to retreat."

"There is one last surprise for the General," Liara said coldly and glanced over at Miranda. "Are you ready to end this?"

Aria interrupted sharply before she could reply, lips curled in anger.

"This is my station, maiden, and if you have a way to get us inside then do it. I've got a score to settle with the General."

"We all do," Miranda added and looked between them all. "But we're nearing the end of our reserves, if Cerberus forces catch us inside Afterlife we won't have a chance. Carmichael, Jack, Nyreen, Sings-Fury… once we get inside can you hold the entrance?"

"I want to be there to rip that son of a bitch's lungs out…" Jack growled, but stopped and took a deep breath. "But I know what I need to do. Fucking Shepard and his fucking responsibility. Go kick the shit out of him."

At that statement Liara held out a hand, palm up.

"Glyph?"

A small holographic image the size of her head appeared in the asari's palm.

"Yes, Doctor T'Soni?" the hologram asked.

"I want this door open. Now."

"Of course."

The blue-white orb streaked to the control panel. Brilliant colors sparkled across its surface as it interacted with the interface and scant seconds later it let out an affirmative beep. A loud clanking sound signaled the inner locking mechanism releasing and the door swished open immediately.

"Task complete."

They moved inside immediately, the rachni in the lead. Carmichael's steps were careful and clearly painful but he held Zaeed's rifle with his one good arm, sling over his shoulder to help hold the weapon in place. Once inside the foyer they took up defensive positions. Miranda nodded to Jack.

"Buy us ten minutes."

"I'll give you five, bitch," the other biotic replied, but there was a smirk on her lips as she said it.

Aria was already stalking purposefully forward and Miranda let her lead the way, following just after with Liara at her side. She exchanged to a silent look with the younger asari, who nodded in return. They knew what had to be done.

The floor of Afterlife was almost completely dark. Anytime someone set foot in a place that was usually filled with people and found it empty there was some part of the mind that was put on edge. That feeling was only strengthened by the pale blue ambient lighting that was the only source of illumination. The process of converting it into something more militarized had clearly begun, with numerous booths and tables having been replaced with desks and consoles.

"Petrovsky!" Aria yelled at the top of her lungs.

A new light came, illuminating the area where Aria had once 'held court' on Omega and clearly silhouetting a broad shouldered male form. Petrovsky's faint accent only confirmed his identity.

"Aria T'Loak. I let you leave Omega once. I offered to do so again. I am afraid I will not offer a third time."

"I'm not interested in your offers, Petrovsky! I'm here to take back what belongs to me!"

"You were a petty tyrant, one that was disposed when it became necessary for the greater good to prevail. Such is the way of your kind. Operative Lawson, Doctor T'Soni… I regret that it has come to this. I believe we could have been allies in different circumstances."

"Enough!" Aria screamed.

The elder asari broke into a run, summoning up biotic energy, but she was stopped cold when something dropped from the ceiling and landed heavily on the stairs in her path. Petrovsky spoke, his voice tired and filled with deep cynicism.

"Adjutants. That name isn't even our own invention, did you know that? Merely a translation of a long dead civilization. We played with technology beyond our understanding and paid a terrible price, but the Illusive Man believed it was necessary for the coming war. Now you see the final product. A blunt instrument for an artless war."

It looked much the same in shape and manner to the other creatures they had already encountered, but it was bulkier, broader. The other adjutants had been built like lean, hungry runners. This monstrosity was more akin to a gorilla, with massive talons and eyes that burned with fury.

The creature gave a guttural roar and swiped at Aria, but the asari quickly threw herself backwards. Landing in a crouch Omega's former queen drew her pistol and emptied the magazine into the massive adjutant. Bullets tore into flesh and rivulets of dark ichor poured down its body. They might have been pebbles for all the creature noticed. When Aria followed up with a warp that took the creature full in the chest only to have it barely notice she felt her eyes widened.

Miranda watched as the thing moved with unnatural speed, charging down the stairs only to overcommit and smash into the bar as Aria sidestepped. Liara had her gun in hand and a biotic glow suffused her open hand.

"I'm afraid this version of the adjutants have been improved significantly compared to the ones that you faced in the streets," Petrovsky said above. "Enhanced regeneration and with the right modifications surprisingly resistant to biotic fields. Amazingly effective against the modern super-weapon that is the biotic soldier."

She glanced around the room, trusting Aria to keep the creature occupied for a precious few seconds. Liara was as close to 'fresh' as any of them but Miranda knew that she had almost exhausted her reserves. Biotics were not a costless ability, much like flexing a muscle but one that reached every inch of the body, it burned energy. And she was barely on her feet. Her eyes settled on a pile of scrap metal.

Willing herself to concentrate she watched as Aria ducked beneath another swing, blasting the creature with a surge of raw energy that staggered it but did little more lasting damage than the initial gunfire had. It howled and lunged towards her once again. Liara fired off a few rounds that were also ignored before looking to Miranda.

"So what do we do, try and overwhelm it?"

"No… that thing is shrugging off gunfire and even if we can take it down with enough blasts it will take just long enough for Petrovsky's reinforcements to arrive," she replied and looked towards the creature. "Aria! Get it to the stairs! Now!"

"What's the plan?" Liara asked without hesitation. "If biotics and guns aren't going to stop it, what will?"

"Physics."

She ran towards the pile of incomplete construction equipment, shoving the metal plating aside until she found what she was looking for: quarter inch rods of steel-alloy. Exactly the kind of material a military commander would use to fortify a hardened insulation.

"I see," Liara said.

Apparently Aria had heard her shouted order as the asari was still slamming power into the massive adjutant, backing away step by step as she led it towards the winding staircase. Once she made it half way up Miranda summoned up the last of her energy and wrapped it around one of the six foot steel lengths.

"Aria, jump!"

The elder asari made a biotically assisted leap, tumbling directly over the adjutant's head as it clawed at the air. Talon tips tore into nothingness scant centimeters from Aria's leg and the thing roared in frustration, trying to turn its bulk on the staircase to follow.

"Now," Miranda hissed and pushed.

Mass times velocity was a simple equation with very complicated possibilities. Such as what happened when one created a biotic field to lower the mass of a two meter long steel rod and then hurtle it at speeds nearing a thousand meters a second before releasing the same biotic field to allow it to retain its velocity while growing in mass.

The result of that calculation impacted the adjutant with a wet crunch just below its right shoulder. Half the rod emerged from the creature's back in an explosive shower of dark ichor and pale flesh that caused the adjutant to stagger and bellow in anguish. Before its howl had even ended the second rod made impact and Liara's aim was better. It caught the thing direct in its sternum and drove it back, impaled on the staircase itself.

Not taking chances they hefted two more of the rods and sent them driving into the adjutant. One pierced its leg while Miranda drove the last directly through its throat and into its skull. It thrashed for a few moments, trying to pull free before finally slumping down… and the eerie blue cybernetic glow went dark in its eyes.

At the foot of the stairs Aria simply threw her head back and laughed. Above the figure of Petrovsky retreated from the light. Miranda gestured towards the opposite staircase that Aria was already headed towards, taking the stairs two at a time. They arrived a few seconds behind the older asari. No Cerberus troops waited with guns drawn. Instead Petrovsky sat behind a desk, elbows leaning on the polished surface with a chess set sitting in front of him.

He looked up and nodded, reaching out and knocking over the white king. He turned to the nearby console and pressed a single button.

"This is General Oleg Petrovsky. Cease all hostilities against Alliance personnel. Authorization sigma, six, six, alpha, nine, one, four, gamma."

With deliberate slowness Petrovsky rose and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Operative Lawson. I surrender myself to you as a prisoner of war. The station is yours. Well played."

Aria crossed the room in an instance, a flash of biotic power lifting the man from his feet and sending him sprawling across the desk. Her hands found his throat and fury contorted the asari's face into something twisted.

"That is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard! You took my station and you think you get to just walk away?"

"I… spared you… Aria…" Petrovsky gasped, struggling against Aria's iron grip. "I… have info… information. Cerberus… Illusive M-Man…"

His voice trailed off as he ran out of air, face darkening red as he tried to shove the asari off. When Miranda spoke it was without raising her voice.

"Let him go, Aria."

The asari's heard snapped in her direction, eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"Let him go," she repeated. "Petrovsky is our prisoner and has information we need. He'll be dealt with by the Alliance."

Aria released the man's throat and ragged gasps could be heard as Petrovsky sucked in desperate breaths. Omega's queen spoke in a barely controlled snarl.

"You're forgetting our agreement, Lawson. You help me retake Omega, I keep things in order so your Alliance can have a safe port in your war. Omega is retaken. You don't give me orders here."

The former Cerberus operative quirked an eyebrow and slipped her hands behind her back, mirroring Petrovsky's previous stance.

"It wasn't a request, Aria. I've watched you ever since we arrived on this station. For all of your talk about Omega being your kingdom… the only thing you've ever cared about is the power it gave you. Nyreen seems to care more about the actual people living here than their 'queen' ever did."

When the asari stalked forward Miranda didn't flinch, ignoring the crackling energy to wrapped itself around the woman's fists. Behind her she could feel Liara tense and summon power of her own. Aria gave a vicious smile.

"This game is always about power. You climb the ladder or you die at the bottom. So I don't give a fuck about what you think of me. My deal was with Shepard, not you. Now get off my station and maybe after I'm done with Petrovsky I'll let you have him if he's still alive."

"No. That's now how this happens, Aria. Now stand down, or else."

It was Liara that made the statement this time and it caused Aria's eyes to snap over to the other asari.

"Don't try me. I know all about you, little miss T'Soni. I've been doing this longer than you've been alive… and I'll still be here when you're dead and gone. I'm the one who makes the threats. And I know Shepard. He'll stand by his agreement. He might be pissed when I hand over Petrovsky's corpse, but there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it. You know."

Miranda shook her head.

"You apparently don't know as much as you think."

She could tell that the asari saw it coming from the way her eyes widened slightly. The taunt had been a foolish indulgence and if Aria hadn't been fatigued from hours of combat it might have cost Miranda her life. But then arrogance was same downfall that had put Aria barely six inches away from Miranda in the first place.

Perfectly engineered genes gave Miranda Lawson amazing speed and reflexes. In an instant she wrapped her hand around the grip of the slim dagger, drew it from the concealed sheath at her back, and drove it upwards. The asari heart was slightly lower and closer to the center of the chest than a human. But then she'd also learned asari anatomy before she'd been old enough to drive. The blade found its mark.

A choked gasp came from Aria and Miranda felt warm blood gush from the wound and onto her hand as she withdrew the blade. The biotic energy that she had been holding winked out as she collapsed to the floor. In less than ten seconds the queen of Omega was dead. Miranda tossed the dagger onto the ground as Petrovsky, still holding his throat, stared in amazement.

"Thank you…" he began.

"Don't," Miranda snapped. "Because of you good people have died fighting over this station."

"War is an unclean business, Ms. Lawson. I did what I thought best, as did you. It has become increasingly clear that I chose my allegiance poorly. But I am still a soldier and I followed my orders."

Behind her Liara spoke, voice filled with disdain.

"How much blood has been excused with the words 'following orders' in the last thousand years?"

"Too much," Petrovsky agreed, getting to his feet once more. "I do not apologize for my actions, Ms. T'Soni. Only for their necessity."

"Let's go."

Miranda quickly secured the Cerberus general's wrists behind his back, leading him back down the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder at the fallen asari. When there was time she knew she'd spend many an hour thinking about that word. Necessity. And eventually she'd ask herself if everything she too had done in life had truly been because of necessity.

She didn't know if she'd like the answer.

* * *

><p>Outside Afterlife they found not only their four fellow squad members but the better part of a company's worth of marines including James Vega, rifle balanced on his shoulder. At the base of the steps Jack sat next to Carmichael who had his good shoulder leaning against the railing while the rachi brood warrior flanked the convict's other side. Vega looked up when they emerged and smiled tiredly at the sight of Petrovsky in binders.<p>

"Mission accomplished?"

Miranda nodded. Two marines took Petrovsky into custody and took him away. The man would likely spend the rest of his life in a cell. But he would live.

"Jack told me about Zaeed," Vega said more quietly. "Can't believe it. But it must have taken out most of the adjutants left on Omega. We barely saw a dozen by the time we made it here."

"Son of a bitch just had to be a hero," Jack growled, hands balled into fists that pressed into the ground.

_We share your songs of black and red, Cage-Singer. We are... sorry for the loss of the elder brood warrior._

Jack blinked, jaw clenched so tightly that Miranda could see the muscles quiver. When she spoke her voice was tight and thick.

"Yea… Caged-Singer. Wish I knew what name you'd have given that old bastard."

The brood warrior shuffled slightly in place to focus its too-bright blue eyes on Jack. In an amazingly humanoid gesture it reached down and placed its pedipalps on the tattooed convict's shoulders.

_Bright-singers always have names, we merely sing of them to those that cannot hear as we do. His will never be forgotten by the rachni._

Jack blinked.

"What was it?"

_Sings-of-Endless-Fire._

* * *

><p><em>After much delay it finally arrives. I'll be updating this on the website later today in an effort to stay on top of things and with my time a little more open now I've managed to begin work on the next chapter already! Some appropriate music for this chapter is one I might have mentioned before but look it up again: Otherwise - Soldiers.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed after the long absence and lift a drink to Robin Sachs when you're done. _


	35. Chapter 34: Secrecy's Cost

Chapter 34: Secrecy's Cost

"They did it, Shepard. We lost good people, but Omega is ours."

Shepard nodded in response, looking at Hackett's holographic image. The report of the mission showed it was a success, but it had come at a high cost. Omega's civilian population had suffered greatly. The strike teams had a casualty rate approaching thirty percent… and one of his own would never come home from Omega.

"The loss of Zaeed Massani is a tragedy. He was one hell of a soldier," Hackett continued, already following the same train of thought. "I knew him when he was still a young marine and I was a navy lieutenant… back then were both still young and stupid. All these years later we both turned out old and cynical."

He felt a sad smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"I think Zaeed would have called it 'acutely aware of goddamn reality'."

The admiral chuckled at Shepard's rough imitation of the old mercenary's accent.

"A better man than he ever let on and one that died how he lived: defiantly. He'll be missed but his sacrifice probably saved dozens if not hundreds of lives. Based on the estimates nearly half the remaining Cerberus abominations were killed in the blast that he triggered."

One life for a hundred of the enemy. Mathematically it was the kind of casualty ratio that war analysts and generals would consider an unqualified success. But those numbers became meaningless when your enemy could call upon limitless reserves. The Reapers had no supply lines. No morale. No civilians. Their zombie-like creations didn't tire or have psychological breakdowns.

Omega was a victory. But for every victory it seemed had to be paid for in blood. Mordin had given his life to save Tuchanka and the krogan people. Cerberus' coup had been stopped but only by Thane's final sacrifice and Legion had willingly given up its very essence for the Geth to take the next step in their evolution. All victories, but even their victories in a war that was almost an endless string of defeats left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Is Operation Bastion a go?" he asked, changing the subject.

"The Eighth is already in system. Techs are making modifications while First Recon is doing a full sweep of the station from top to bottom to ensure none of these 'adjutant' creatures are left alive," Hackett explained. "Miranda Lawson is coordinating with Admiral Shepard to integrate the Orizaba as the command vessel for the new defense fleet complete with quantum entanglement communications."

"We won't have long. The Reapers' lethargy is the only reason this is possible at all, but even they won't ignore that many of our forces congregating in one location," Shepard said grimly. "If they hit us before we establish our hold on the opposite side of the relay…"

Hackett shook his head.

"We haven't detected any major shifts of their capital-scale Reapers yet. They haven't attacked the Citadel either, so we can't assume they'll immediately strike out our forces at the Omega relay. Either way our people are working non-stop."

"What about the allied forces? Is everyone on board?"

"The Admiralty Board wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea but they acquiesced. The _Rayya_ and the _Shellen_ will be in system in less than twelve hours. A full complement of geth arrived within an hour of the station's fall, sixteen cruisers in all escorting one of their dreadnoughts. Your reports didn't do the class justice… truly a massive warship."

"And Omega itself?" he asked, continuing his questioning.

A smaller holo-image appeared on one of the displays, illustrating damaged areas and current data on the station's population.

"Civilians were hard hit. Between the resistance to Cerberus occupation and the adjutants… the death toll was devastating," the admiral replied, lines deepening on his face as he frowned. "I hope that most left to escape Cerberus but total population count is hovering just under four million. Estimates at the start of the war had put Omega's population at seven point eight."

"My god… how…" he blinked.

He knew there would be losses, but for the station's population to have be nearly cut in half in the months since Cerberus seized control? It boggled the mind. Everything that Miranda had told him would never have hinted that Petrovsky would have been involved in large scale extermination. Apparently seeing the confusion on Shepard's face, Hackett offered an explanation.

"We discovered that the 'adjutant problem' had been more severe that anyone realized. On reviewing seized records and from debriefing Petrovsky himself we learned that the initial influx of rogue adjutants ravaged the most isolated sections of the station. Entire wards were turned into those things. To contain the situation Petrovsky sealed large portions of the station and vented the atmosphere. It didn't kill the adjutants but it made them go dormant. Then it was just a matter of putting them down."

"And what about now?"

Hackett lifted a pad in one hand, appearing to briefly scan its contents.

"Eighty five percent of the station is officially secured, teams on the ground are rendering aid and any personnel that aren't involved with the Bastion modifications are assisting in any way they can," the older man said, his tone clinical. "On Miranda Lawson's recommendation a turian named Nyreen Kandros has take the position has temporary governor of Omega. She was apparently leading the resistance movement against Cerberus."

Shepard didn't need ask the follow up question. Aria T'loak would not have abdicated peacefully. It was a decision that he hadn't wanted to make, even less to have placed the burden on the shoulders of another. But Miranda Lawson was no innocent and she had accepted the necessity without question. Aria was a monster that had always worn the veneer of grace and civility like a fine cloak, but beneath was concerned only with her own personal survival.

The time for games was over. He had accepted a position that made him responsible for the lives not just of his friends or his crew, but of an entire galaxy. There was no room for hesitance. He had known that Aria would make demands, try to secure deals and profit from what was coming. In the end Aria T'loak was one more drop of blood in an overflowing cup, one of the few he could find little sympathy for.

"What about your hunt, Shepard?" Hackett asked, his tone that of a man that had just repeated himself. "I was informed that there was an… incident with Councilor Tevos."

He snapped his attention back onto the admiral and sighed, reaching up to rub his temples. Even now, hours removed from the aforementioned incident, he felt anger surge through him.

"The asari, or at least the highest levels of their government, have been hiding a prothean beacon for thousands of years. I found this out not because they came forward but because of the research of Doctor Bryson. I… lost my composure."

"An understatement from what I hear," the older man said thoughtfully, but a grim smile crossed his weathered features. "I do wish I'd been there to see it firsthand. Did we at least gain any leads?"

"I think so. Thessia is the key to this hunt."

"Then you'd best move quickly. Reports show Reaper forces advancing quickly through asari space."

"And the rest of the front?" he inquired.

The sigh that came in response was the sound of a man who carried a great weight, but knew he was far from rest. Hackett shook his head.

"The last of our colonies fell yesterday. As for zero three hundred hours galactic standard time we are a species without a world. Like the quarians for so many years our species exists only as a fleet and as members on scattered worlds and stations like the Citadel."

Shepard straightened his posture and gave the admiral a crisp salute.

"The quarians returned to their home, Admiral. We will as well. Now I've got a myth to track down."

Hackett returned the salute.

"Good hunting, Shepard."

* * *

><p>Sixty kilos of excited varren skidded across the smooth deck plating and slammed into a stack of crates hard enough to make them sway worryingly. The large creature blinked both sets of eyelids, regained its foot, and took off like a shot again in the opposite direction after a much smaller orangish blur. Shepard couldn't help but smile at the varren's antics.<p>

"It's become something of an evening ritual," Cortez said from his right.

He glanced over from his position sitting on the steps leading to the main floor of the cargo bay. Cortez was standing at his usual console, likely reviewing their supply listings in his function as the Normandy's unofficial quartermaster.

"When did it start?"

The pilot shrugged and walked over to lean against the support beam next to the stairs.

"Week ago? With so many of the ground team no longer on board Urz was starting to get a little bored I think. The only regular crew that will really play with him are me and Traynor, everyone else is too nervous."

After one more comically eager attempt at a chase Urz's clawed feet slipped out from under him and the strange lizard-dog tumbled to the deck plating. Once he recovered his footing the varren padded over to where Shepard sat and eased back on his haunches, head cocked and tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.

"Nervous? Urz is a big baby," Shepard replied, reaching out the scratch the base the varren's crest of spines. The varren gave a pleased, undulating warble.

"A big baby that weighs more than Kasumi and has fangs that are pushing ten centimeters," Cortez pointed out, but gave Urz a scratch as well. "Even when he's happy he looks like he's ready to eat someone."

"Point. I'd be worried that he'd hurt the workers but there doesn't seem to be much danger of him catching them."

Cortez leaned back up from the varren, crossing his arms with a low chuckle. For his part Urz had apparently decided that he had received the appropriate amount of attention and had simple flopped across Shepard's feet like a scaley rug.

"Not a chance in hell. At first I thought he really was hunting them but after watching them a few times it turned out the little critters were working together. Usually around sixteen hundred hours they'll start coming out… start taunting him. Then you're in for a good hour of varren pinball."

Even as the pilot explained, three of the small rachni workers emerged from various places around the cargo hold. Two emerged from the last stack of crates that Urz had plowed into while the last skittered down the support beam that Cortez was leaning against, causing the pilot to suppress a start. Urz's head rose at their approach but quickly dropped back to the deck plating. The three rachni workers congregated near his boot in a neat little line looking for all the world like tiny soldiers presenting themselves for inspection.

Shepard studied the workers for a moment, rubbing his chin.

"Have you three been entertaining my varren?"

Antennae wiggled vigorously and the workers rose up to wave their front claws as well. Unlike the brood warriors or Hope-Singer no words sang into his mind, but he did feel a faint sensation of warm and satisfaction, a splash of green across his mind's eye like a hot summer's day.

He laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Strangest thing I've ever seen," Cortez said. "They're everywhere now, though. Don't tell Tali or Gardener but I even caught one of the workers in the pantry organizing the supplies."

"That one I'll take to my grave. Tali is learning to get along with them I think, but near the food? Might be a bridge too far."

The pilot nodded, shaking his head.

"Agreed. Never thought I'd be serving on a ship with it's own complement of worker bugs and a live varren, fighting a war against sentient space ships. Sounds like the kind of scenario you come up with after a night of heavy drinking at the academy."

"Shepard, you have a priority alpha communication incoming on the QEC," EDI's voice interrupted. "It appears to be from Primarch Victus."

Ice poured through his veins. Priority alpha was reserved for members of the Alliance war council and only used in the event of major disasters. He immediately stood and headed for the elevator, apologizing over his shoulder as he moved.

"Sorry, Cortez."

"Not a problem, sir."

As always the elevator's slow crawl upwards increased his agitation by the second and by the time it opened he practically burst from its confines. Shepard moved past Traynor without a word and into the war room. Once within the communication's room he secured the door.

"EDI?"

"Linking in Primarch Victus now."

The blue hologram took the form of a male turian standing on the raised platform that he recognized as the communication center of the _Kwunu_. Victus looked… tired. Shepard suspected they all were beginning to look much the same. His posture had lost some of the usual turian rigidity and his plates were dull. When the image fully solidified the turian gave a sigh of relief.

"Shepard, thank the spirits."

"What's happened, Primarch?"

Victus' taloned hands gripped the edge of the railing around the platform.

"Over fifty percent of the Reaper's forces have withdrawn from Palaven. In the last two hours at least a dozen of the Sovereign-class ships and dozens of smaller vessels have left the surface and surrounding systems."

"I can't believe the Reapers would actually find the resistance on Palaven strong enough to force them off world, no matter how successful we've been," Shepard said skeptically, and then frowned. "If they're moving on Omega we have to accelerate the timetable."

"I assumed as much as began to move forces to assist... but we just received a communication from the Asari Republic. Their outer colonies were just completely overrun. Asari forces engaged their main fleet and they barely even slowed down. Every ship is on a direct course for their homeworld."

"But why now? The asari-"

Shepard stopped as his eyes widened in sudden realization.

"Son of a bitch. They know about Leviathan. They're hunting it too."

"And apparently this Leviathan is enough of a threat that they are not only ignoring our efforts to secure Omega but to temporarily lift the siege on our worlds. Some of their vessels remain but compared to the previous assault… it is a token force at best."

"EDI! Recall all crew back to the Normandy and set course for Thessia! We're out of this dock in fifteen minutes. Anyone not aboard is being left behind."

The hologram of Victus grimaced, nodding.

"The asari are throwing everything they have against the Reapers. In the last few months they've been successful in using hit and run tactics to keep them at bay, but now the Reapers appear willing to absorb extremely disproportionate losses," the Primarch explained. "It's forcing the asari ships into head to head engagements to force the bulk of the Reaper forces to slow them down at all."

"How long can they keep it up?" Shepard asked, already suspecting the answer.

"They can't keep it up at all. From the reports I'm receiving they've already lost fifteen percent of their remaining fleet in the last four hours."

The Spectre slammed a fist into the console.

"How long for us to make it to Thessia, EDI?"

"Eleven hours, sixteen minutes, Shepard. All crew have been recalled and refueling is completed. The Normandy will be ready to leave dock in seven minutes," the AI replied.

Eleven hours. Even assuming the asari could continue their current level of success in fighting the Reapers, it would mean that by the time they reached Thessia the Republic fleet would be a shadow of its former glory. He took a deep, steadying breath.

"Then all we can do is hope the asari can hold out."

"Our forces around Palaven and Omega will capitalize on this lapse in the Reaper's attention," Victus promised. "The price will be high but maybe it will give us the chance to complete Operation Bastion."

"A Leviathan and a Crucible… we're banking everything on two massive unknowns."

Victus gave a tired shrug, mandibles twitching into what he recognized as the turian version of a rueful smile.

"War is always an unknown, Shepard. The ability to take advantage of those unknowns is what separates the victorious from the vanquished. Spirits watch over you, Praetor."

"And you, Primarch."

Shepard closed the connection and stood silently as the glow of the hologram faded, the room dimming bit by bit until only the faint glimmer from the console remained.

* * *

><p>Outside the Normandy a particular version of hell drifted in the void. The frigate moved gracefully, slipping past wreckage that rolled end over end through space. It once had been an asari cruiser. Now it was a tomb, a few fires still guttering throughout its ruined superstructure as the last of the oxygen vented into space or burned out.<p>

It was one among hundreds. The space around Thessia was a freshly ravaged battlefield. Defense satellites, warships, and fighters floated lifelessly around the planet. Unlike their own careful approach, the Reapers responsible for the slaughter simply smashed through the wreckage as the burned toward the planet's surface.

"We're too late…" Joker whispered.

It was a scene they had both seen before, only in reverse, as they had fled Earth. It had repeated itself again on Palaven. Now a third world was enduring the same brutal assault. He felt his jaw tighten in anger. How many worlds were going to burn before they finished this?

"We always were," Shepard replied sadly. "Get us down there, Joker. We don't have long."

He left the cockpit and took the elevator to the cargo bay. The doors opened to reveal the rest of his team in the final stages of preparation. Tali and Garrus were in their full combat armor, the quarian locking protective combat visor into place as he walked in. Kasumi was frowning as Samara assisted her with the latches on her armor.

"This isn't very… stealthy," the thief complained.

"In this situation stealth is secondary to survival. The goddess protects, but she does not save the foolish from themselves," Samara explained patiently, locking the last arm plate into place.

While she had managed to keep her trademark hood, somehow, Kasumi's armor had undergone a significant upgrade. After hearing about just how close the thief had come to a mortal injury during the Battle of the Citadel from Garrus and the incident on the mining station he had ordered upgraded gear from the Spectre armory. Their stockpiles weren't extensive but in this case he had felt little guilt in abusing his authority.

"There had better be a helmet under that hood, Kasumi," he said firmly.

The responding sigh was filled with exasperation but she raised up a close-faced, featureless helm in her other hand.

"I'll put it on in a minute, Shep. I feel so… bulky in this."

Shepard gave a small smile.

"It's all Spectre issued gear. Your stealth web will interact with the armor and the plating will offer you significantly more protection than just ballistic cloth and kinetic barriers. Secondary barrier layer generators, additional space for thermal clips and gear."

A taloned hand came to rest on her shoulder and squeezed.

"It's the armor of a soldier," Garrus said.

Kasumi tensed for a moment and then relaxed into the turian's grip, turning her head upwards slightly. He saw their eyes meet and Kasumi nodded once, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth that looked both sad and somehow grateful. There was more meaning there than the words implied from the way they acted but he wouldn't ask unless one of them offered.

When Tali moved to his side and lightly touched his elbow it only served the confirm those thoughts. He looked over at her, all black armor and stylized raven across her chest with only thin slits of her purple visor showing through the metal protecting her face.

"Geared up?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Shotgun, pistol, back-up pistol. Two additional ammo packs," Tali said, patting the compartments on her thighs. "We're ready. I'm glad we requisitioned these supplies as soon as the Normandy docked or we might not have had everything before leaving the Citadel."

"Sometimes things work out. What about your gear, Samara? Find everything you need?"

"Of course, Shepard," the justicar replied. "I brought my own weapons, but the armor was easily fitted after some slight adjustments. I will have to compliment Ms. T'Soni on her choice of equipment."

"She has good taste," Shepard agreed.

The Spectre moved to his own locker and pulled out his gear. All old standbys: reliable and familiar in his hands. His pistol went into the holster at his hip, while the Vindicator and sniper rifle snapped into place onto the magnetic grips on his back. When he snapped the helmet seals closed the armor's HUD sprang to life, status indicators all burning bright green.

"Everyone geared?"

A chorus of agreement came in response, followed by the mental song of Sings-Twilight. Half a dozen worker drones skittered off the rachni's bulky form as he moved into the center of the cargo hold. The brood warrior looked oddly bulky.

"Did you… grow?" Tali asked.

_The workers sang armoring-songs across our carapace during the journey. Temporary layers will chip away when damaged._

"Rachni ablative armor," Garrus mused. "They never mention that in the history vids."

"It'll probably be needed," Shepard said grimly. "Load up!"

Six people against a planet overrun with Reapers. It wasn't as if they hadn't done similarly insane things and come out on top. He ground his teeth, watching Tali strap in across from him in the shuttle, and wondered how long they could keep coming out on top. As soon as the thought rose in his mind, Shepard shoved it back down again. He knew where those doubts lead and it was nowhere he meant to go again.

With so many Reapers hovering above Thessia and already on the surface Shepard could feel a constant throb of pressure at the back of his mind like the hum of a high voltage power line. If he let himself focus on the sound it became clearer, though no more intelligible. Just as on Rannoch it was a battle of a million voices speaking a million languages. Unlike Rannoch, though, he was prepared this time and forced the thrum of power out of his thoughts.

He turned his attention to the justicar next to him.

"Are you going to be okay? This is your homeworld… it's not an easy thing to see."

Samara's expression behind the clear visor of her helm was one of grim determination.

"I have seen atrocities across the galaxy for centuries, Shepard, and I have the devastation the Reapers have wrought first hand. I will not falter."

"Good enough for me," he agreed, not pressing the issue.

Shepard extended his arm and opened his omni-tool, projecting a small hologram of Thessia.

"Listen up, people. Joker is taking us in low and fast. Cortez is going to drop us out of the Normandy while she's moving full speed so it's going to be a rough ride. Once we're clear, Joker is going to burn the Normandy back out of atmosphere while Cortez sets down and kills the power to stay hidden."

The hologram zoomed in, showing one of the many spire-like buildings within Thessia's capital.

"We're proceeding on foot to here: the temple of Athame. Based on Dr. Bryson's research the temple houses a Prothean beacon. Unlike the one on Eden Prime this one seems to be intact and might be our best chance at locating Leviathan. From what I can tell it sounds like we weren't the first to go hunting for this thing."

"How are we planning to get the beacon out? Based on your description of the one on Eden Prime it has to be a few hundred kilograms," Garrus asked.

He shook his head.

"The beacon won't be getting out… the protheans designed these things to provide information and the last one nearly killed me trying to hand that out. I wish Javik was here to make it easier, but at this point we have to just assume that the device will be usable. Any data we can retrieve will be directly uploaded to the Normandy."

The shuttle gave a sudden, violent jerk. Even after years of low gravity drops, fast extractions, and various other stomach turning acts of flying Shepard felt uneasy. From the cockpit Cortez's voice yelled out

"We're clear! Moving to LZ!"

"Twilight, Samara… you're with me. Garrus, you've got Kasumi and Tali with you," Shepard ordered. "We're taking point and moving fast. You'll be right behind providing overwatch. If we spring a trap, your team breaks it. Once we reach the temple Twilight and Tali will switch. Secure the perimeter while Tali and I access the beacon. Clear?"

"Always," Garrus agreed.

Seconds later the shuttle doors opened and they fanned out, weapons held ready. Even through the helmet filters Shepard was hit by the scent of acrid smoke. He blinked once and looked out to see asari spires ablaze, the massive form of Reapers moving against the skyline in the distance. Even as they watched one of the massive warships physically smashed through one of the towering spires, shattering it like it was made of glass.

"Keelah…" Tali breathed.

Gunfire immediately ended their shock, the sound of screams intermingling with the crack of short, controlled bursts. Without another words they broke into a run. The streets were already littered with debris. Shepard vaulted over a fallen pillar, skidding to a stop when he reached the edge of a shatter pathway that dropped thirty feet to another roadway. They'd found the source of the commotion.

A few dozen asari were huddled in the center of an intersection, clearly civilians. Around the civilians in a thinly stretched ring were less than ten asari commandos. Each commando was circling slow, firing those same controlled bursts in steady rhythm. That disciplined defense was the only thing keeping the husks at bay but the circle was tightening bit by bit. The creatures crouched atop skycars and clambered over decorative railings. A few hundred meters away Shepard could see more husks approaching mixed with the more deadly cannibals.

Thessia was a doomed world. Just like Earth and Palaven before it, it would burn under the Reaper's assault. He should leave the commandos to do their best, even knowing that once the cannibals guns came to bear there would be little they could do because their mission was what was really important. Not just delaying the inevitable.

But he wouldn't just leave people to die. Not when they could be saved, even if it was just for an hour or for a day. That was what made them different from the Reapers. They weren't driven by logic and calculations. His lips curled into a snarl.

"Take them down!" Shepard barked. "Samara, Twilight on me!"

The Spectre took a few steps back to get a running start and then hurled himself off the ledge and down towards the street below. A few feet from the ground he summoned up a surge of biotic energy, using a slight push of power to direct his fall directly onto the back of one of the circling husks. He slammed into the creature with bone shattering force and at the same moment released the power, sending out a shockwave to sent the husks around him flying through the air.

Twilight landed at his side with an equally devastating impact, razor sharp claws lashing out within heartbeats of hitting the ground. A second later Samara landed with more grace but no less lethality, the pistol in his hand claiming three husks with precise headshots before her feet even touched the pavement. The Spectre drew his pistol and called on another surge of power, the crackling azure blade springing from his left arm as he gestured towards the approaching cannibals to their left.

"Engage the cannibals, Garrus, clear the right!"

Shots rang out over their heads, the loud boom of the turian's sniper rifle a basso counterpoint to the chattering of submachine gun fire from Tali and Kasumi. The three of them charged straight past the stunned asari commandos, slamming into the husks' line like tidal wave.

Twin cascades of power from the biotics at his flank tore into the creatures, ripping limbs from their sockets and crushing bones in alternating pulses that danced across the ground. Shepard caught the first cannibal with a biotically enhanced shoulder check that sent it flying, turning his pistol on the next and pumping two rounds into it's screaming mouth. A third swung a malformed, clawed arm at him. He spun on his heel, letting the claws skip off his armor and lashed out with his other arm, removing the thing's arm at the elbow. Another quick jab drove the biotic blade into the husk's skull.

Samara ducked under another cannibal's claws, throwing it backwards with a push of biotic power. In one smooth motion she holstered her pistol and drew forth a compact shotgun of asari make, unleashing half a dozen blasts in quick succession that each left fist sized holes a different husk.

_Songless abominations! We will destroy all creations of the dark-song destroyers!_

The rachni's mental battle cry flooded his mind with a sea of red and orange, like the heart of a bonfire. Somewhere in the few seconds that they'd taken to tear into the Reaper forces the asari commandos had recovered were adding their own firepower to the engagement. Twilight knocked a cannibal aside and Shepard caught it in mid-flight, driving his blade through its chest before dropping it to the ground. He turned and fired a shot into another's kneecap, sending it sprawling into the ground next to Samara. The justicar didn't even bother with her weapon, shattering its skull with a biotic kick.

What felt like an hour took less than five minutes according to his HUD's chronometer. Husk corpses were scattered at their feet and dark ichor was splattered across Shepard's armor. He put a round into the head of one of the husks that still twitched, just to be sure, and turned back to the others.

"Everyone clear?" he asked.

"We're good up here," Tali replied.

"Not seeing any other husks. Smoke and fire cutting down on visual range, though," Garrus agreed. "We're coming down."

"Goddess… you're Shepard!" one of the commandos said. "The Alliance is here to help?"

He grimaced behind the helm, turning to face the woman. She was still a maiden it looked like, wearing dark green armored and holding a curved shotgun that was a twin to the one Samara wielded. The expression on her face was one of surprise and hope. It was painful to watch it fade as he spoke.

"We're on a mission to extract vital information from the temple of Athame," he explained simply.

"What about your fleets?" one of civilians said, beginning to crowd behind the line of commandos.

To his relief Garrus took the unpleasant task of crushing their hopes.

"There are no fleets. This is a covert mission. We can't face the Reaper fleet in open combat… your own fleets have been decimated trying to do the same."

"What are we supposed to do?" the same commando asked. "We can't stop them…"

"I wish I could tell you an easy solution, but I can't," Shepard replied tiredly. "Get yourself and the civilians out of the major population centers. Take whatever supplies you can carry and keep moving. We have forces still on Earth that have been resisting for months."

"But-"

"We do what the man says," a second commando interrupted, quickly beginning to issue orders. "Ulia, organize the civilians. The strongest will carry supplies as we can find them, everyone else needs to stay together. We don't have much time, move."

"Of course, Huntress Vyssa."

The first commando nodded and moved back among the civilians. Others spread out and formed a rough perimeter. Vyssa turned back to Shepard and inclined her head briefly. She was older than her counterpart, possibly a matron by the look of her skin tone and build.

"Thank you for your assistance, Commander Shepard. We would have been overwhelmed otherwise. We'll try to get these people out of the city," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "Not all of them will make it. But maybe some will make it and see the end of this war."

It was both a statement and a question. The huntress knew that no amount of guerilla resistance would drive the Reapers from Thessia. Their war would be the same one Anderson was fighting back on Earth: to survive. Until the they won the war. Until he led to them to victory.

"Never stop fighting. This war isn't over yet, but it will be soon," he promised and ignored how bitter the words tasted.

"I hope so. Good luck, Commander, and may the goddess watch over you."

Samara stopped to speak with the commandos briefly while they regrouped. Within a few minutes they were moving again, giving a final salute as the group of asari headed in the opposite direction. All he could do was wish them luck, knowing that most would likely not see the next dawn.

They made their way through the devastated streets. In the hours since the assault had begun the city had become mostly deserted as survivors congregated in groups for safety. The gleaming glass and beautifully maintained guards contrasted starkly with still smoldering craters and a sky that darkened with ash by the minute. By the time they reached the final causeway leading to the temple of Athame a setting sun was struggling to pierce the haze, casting everything in dull red light.

Fortunately the temple had been left mostly undisturbed through the centuries as Thessia's capital had grown around it. The small spire was only a few stories tall and they were able to quickly ascend the winding ramp that encircled the building. When they reached the summit he paused, scanning the area.

The temple's entrance was an enormous archway that overlooked the now burning city below. He saw no movement within, but erred on the side of caution and motioned for Garrus and his team to take up position on the opposite side of the entrance. After another moment's pause they moved inside, weapons raised. No husks attacked. The temple was deserted.

"Tali, you're with me. Samara, we might need you to translate. The writings from the temple were all in a dialect that's not in our omni-tools," Shepard said. "Garrus, set up a perimeter. I don't know how long this will take and I don't want to be surprised by husks."

"On it," the turian replied.

"Where's the beacon?" Tali asked.

"Center of the room… apparently they covered it up with the statue of Athame. It's literally been hidden in plain sight for over a thousand years."

The temple was more accurately described as a museum. Artifacts were stored under glass cases, small informative plaques mounted beneath them with holographic emitters offering more information about their history. Ancient pottery, pitted weapons, and various scrolls all led to a large statue of the asari goddess at the center of the room.

"Lucen… one of Athame's guides that taught the asari of the stars and how to navigate by them," Samara said as they moved past one of the cases, then gestured to another. "Athame's shield, said to have protected the asari people when the sky itself turned against us and rained fire."

"So much history," Tali said quietly.

Samara shook her head sadly.

"History used to conceal the true nature of this place. My government educated our people about history, but concealed the most important knowledge from all in a quest for power and influence."

The statue at the temple's center was huge, stretching upwards to nearly the top of the vaulted ceiling. It looked like nothing more than smooth, sculpted stone. No one could have guessed that it concealed something so important. Shepard frowned, staring at it.

"If the beacon is in the statute… how do we get to it?" Tali asked.

"I wondered the same," Samara said. "Did Councilor Tevos' data not provide a method of revealing the device, Shepard?"

Shepard stepped forward. A low buzz, barely audible, made the hair of his arm stand on end. Without conscious effort he moved closer to the statue. The buzz became a hum. Every step grew in intensity until the sound made it feel as if his bones were vibrating. He only realized that he was grinding his teeth when Tali's voice broke through the sound.

"John!"

He shook his head and blinked, looking back to see both Samara and Tali with weapons in hand. Tali had taken a step towards him, reaching out tentatively.

"It's okay," he said slowly, mouth dry. "I think… I feel it."

The Spectre easily vaulted the low railing that surrounding the statue before either of the pair could object. Forcing his way through the wave of energy he reached the base of the sculpture and placed a hand on the image of Athame's leg. A sound like the crack of whip split the air and the buzzing abruptly ceased. He pulled his hand back and took a step away.

From the points where his fingertips had touched stone, cracks shot outwards in haphazard patterns that branched over and over again. The flaws pulsed with faint golden light as they raced up the statue's form until the entire body was like a pane of cracked glass. A moment later the statue began to crumble. Chunks of stone tumbled away and dissolved into dust before striking the ground, the processing speeding up with each piece that fell.

"All these centuries… goddess forgive us," Samara said as the form of a prothean beacon was revealed.

Unlike the beacon on Eden Prime this device was not sparking and crackling with bursts of uncontrolled energy. Instead it glowed with a steady hum of power. Pristine and undamaged. Another burst of anger shot through Shepard at the sight, knowing that it had been sitting here all this time.

A holographic form materialized in front of the beacon. Its features were indistinct, but its shape was unmistakably that of a prothean. The hologram turned its attention in Shepard's direction.

"Detecting prothean psycho-imprint. Analyzing current data. Reaper presence detected. Conclusion, current cycle has already reached point of termination. Entering dormancy mode to avoid detection."

"Wait!" Shepard snapped.

To his surprise the digital image paused and turned to face him.

"This cycle isn't over yet!" he continued immediately. "We've come farther than anyone before us. We have the plans for the Crucible that your people designed, even now we're close to locating the Leviathan."

"Why have you not utilized the Crucible?" the image asked.

He shook his head.

"We secured a location to build it in safety only recently and we still don't know its exact function. Now I'm hoping that you can tell us."

"I cannot."

"Why not? We deserve the right to fight for our future!" Tali snapped. "This isn't your war, we stopped the Reapers from destroying the relays. Haven't we earned the right to try?"

"You misunderstand. We cannot explain the Crucible's function as we do not know its function. I am known as Vendetta. My personality matrix was based upon to lead scientist in charge of the Crucible project. We attempted to construct the device but were betrayed by a faction within our ranks that believed that they could control the Reapers."

"Your people did not know the device's function?" Samara asked.

"Correct. The Crucible is not a product of prothean design. It was discovered in data left behind by the previous cycle. Records indicate it has been passed down for thousands of years. No record of its successful deployment was noted."

Shepard felt his jaw tighten. He had hoped that finally they had received a break, one piece of good fortune that could help them swing the war in their favor. One of the keys to that would be the knowledge of how to properly utilize their 'super weapon'. Now it turned out that the protheans had no more idea than they did about the nature of the device.

"Our scientists calculated that it was capable of enormous energy output but were unable to determine what the effect of its use would be. Due to the nature of the war it was deemed an acceptable risk to deploy the weapon," Vendetta continued. "Construction was never completed. Our engineers were unable to finish the device before the rival faction sabotaged development. Within seventeen solar cycles of its destruction the Reapers had completed their destruction of the prothean race."

"Keelah," Tali whispered, armored visor turning in his direction.

He could read the disappointment in her features as the quarian's body shifted, hand dropping to her side when she processed the information. Nothing would come easy it seemed. With an effort he pushed his own dark thoughts aside and looked to the AI's shimmering form.

"What about the Leviathan?" he asked instead.

"Searching. Leviathan: based upon historical records and translation you are referring to the legend of an entity or force capable of destroying Reaper warships. Collected data suggests the myth of the 'Leviathan' has been a part of multiple cycles."

Tali's hands balled into fists when she spoke.

"But do you know where it is?"

"The entity known as Leviathan was never located. Reaper presence on this planet indicates that your own species will soon repeat the same cycle based on current estimations of your species technological advancement and possible military power."

It actually startled him with Tali slammed a fist into the educational display next to one of the artifacts. The slim screen shattered easily under the armor of her glove. The outburst caused the digital image of the prothean to pause once more and look at the quarian.

"Then what good are you? Your people seeded the galaxy with your beacons, you even put your warriors like Javik in stasis! Why?" she demanded, voice barely under a yell. "What was the point? Just to mock the 'primitives' as we all die?"

His helmet clicked and Garrus' voice broke in over the comm.

"Everything okay in there, Boss?"

"Copy that, keep it locked down out there. We've made contact with a prothean VI like the one on Ilos," he responded quickly.

It seemed that Tali wasn't quite finished, stalking up to the glowing hologram and jabbing a finger at it as she spat out her words.

"We aren't just going to give up because some… some _qua'neddas fecsas _told us we were too weak! We killed the first Reaper we ever encountered! We stopped their trap, we have fleets, we have him!" she said, gesturing back at Shepard. "All your technology and we've still made it farther than the protheans ever did!"

Shepard didn't think that VI's were capable of being taken aback, but the holographic image clasped its hands before it in what appeared to be a conciliatory gesture.

"As a synthetic intelligence it would be logical to assume I am without a soul, quarian," Vendetta agreed. "But my designer did not create me to mock those that came in the next cycle. I was designed to provide knowledge. Knowledge of our people, our empire, our way of life. And knowledge of those that destroyed us."

All at once each of their omni-tools activated and a flurry of information appeared on their screens. Data sped past their eyes at a rate that only another AI like EDI could have comprehended.

"You have stated that one of our species has survived. It is within the limits of my programming to allow access to the data stored within the beacon based upon this assumption. I have prioritized the research of our scientists on the entity known to you as Leviathan. The lead researcher on the project believed that the being or species responsible for the myths could have survived previous cycles by unknown methods. It is possible that the Leviathan is a form of life that has lived through repeated cycles. If this theory is correct then such a being would be extremely advanced."

It was Tali's turn to be stunned as she stared down at her omni-tool.

"There's… so much. How… but my omni-tool only has a few thousand petabytes of space…"

"I have accessed your internal armor systems. Upon detecting a quantum network I reconfigured your communications devices to send the data on a repeated loop, this will allow unlimited data space until such a time that you can properly store that information," the VI explained.

"You have our thanks," Samara said solemnly.

"Your gratitude is unnecessary. I operate within the boundaries created for me by my creators."

"Your creators allow you to release data based upon the assumption that a prothean is alive fifty thousand years later because some alien said so?"

There was a pause. Holographic prothean eyes fixed upon him.

"The boundaries of my creators are… open to interpretation."

Tali's head shot up from her omni-tool.

"You're not a VI! You didn't operate on a set programing path, you made a decision! You're a true AI!"

"I am a… memory," Vendetta replied noncommittally. "The methods used by my designer to copy memory and personality data was illegal in the Prothean Empire. With the arrival of the Reapers the scientists decided that such restrictions were an unaffordable luxury."

A prothean AI, this one with the memories and knowledge of one of their scientists? Javik was an excellent warrior and a source of extensive knowledge about the war with the Reapers. But an AI with access to that knowledge could be a game changer. Maybe their mission wouldn't be a complete loss after all.

"Vendetta, can you-"

Shepard's comm erupted in a burst of sudden static and he raised his arm to check when Garrus' yell cut through the interference.

"Incoming!"

He had just long enough to turn on his heel and watch as an A-61 Mantis gunship drop into view of the massive archway that lead to the temple, highlighted by the red glow of Thessia's setting sun behind it. A volley of missiles streaked through the air and into the temple itself.

Adrenaline surged through his body and instinct told him to run, but there was no time. The Spectre unleashed a massive surge of biotic energy just as the missiles hit. He had never learned to hold a biotic barrier like Samara or Miranda even, the concentration wasn't there. But he might be able to keep one very strong one up for a few seconds.

And then the world was engulfed in thunder and light.

* * *

><p>When Shepard shook himself back into consciousness everything was blurry and he immediately began to cough. Fine dust filled the air. His vision began to clear. He'd lost his helmet in the blast was his best guess, but he was still alive, and tried to examine his surroundings.<p>

Two images stood in front of him, coalescing into the armored form of Cerberus soldiers. Standard issue white and black, helmets, equally standard issue assault rifles. Basic troopers. One's faceless visor turned in his direction at the sound of his cough.

"Sir-"

Shepard ignored the screaming pain in his head and lashed out with both legs, catching the trooper in the ankles, sending him toppling forward. The second soldier raised his rifle and fired, but Shepard rolled to the side, braced his back against the ground and threw himself to his feet. More pain, this time in his shoulder, send warning signals bouncing around his brain. There was no time to pay attention to them.

Two steps brought him inside the soldier's reach. The Spectre feinted an overhand blow, causing the other man to raise his rifle in protection only to lash out with a vicious kick directly at the trooper's knee. It bent inward with a sickening crack, the man falling to the floor with a howl of pain while Shepard ripped the rifle out of his hands. The first soldier that had fallen was scrambling for his weapon, only to cease abruptly with Shepard snapped off two quick rounds into his faceplate before delivering another double tap to the trooper with the shatter knee.

"Impressive."

Shepard snapped the rifle up and settled it over the man standing in front of the prothean beacon. He felt his mouth curl into a reflexive snarl. Kai Leng. His omni-tool glowed brightly in the fine particles that still drifted through the air. Massive chunks of the temple had be destroyed and cracks shot through the stone in every direction. He let his glance flick from side to side.

Dust covered purple caught his attention immediately. Tali lay against one of the pillars, clutching her arm with two soldiers standing over her, rifles raised. Samara was sprawled next to her, still unconscious, but alive from the way the dust moved with her shallow breaths. Their weapons were all stacked a good five meters away, too far to make a run for.

"Don't worry... your little xeno bitch is still alive, Shepard," Kai Leng said, words dripping with false pleasantry as a cruel smile crossed his features. "I was waiting for this little program to do its work and thinking how best to end this."

The Spectre sucked in dusty breaths and tried to assess his situation. Three more soldiers flanked Kai Leng and from the sound of armor scraping on stone there were at least a few more behind him. He couldn't see Garrus' team anywhere. Kai Leng's omni-tool disappeared and the man turned to face him directly.

"I decided I want to pop that little mask of hers off and see what would make a man betray his entire species to lay with some creature. But I wanted you to wake up first… so you can watch her choke on this unclean air."

His snarl became audible and his finger tightened on the trigger.

"Over my dead body, Leng. Your little brainwashed soldiers might drop me, but I can definitely put a burst through your skull with this rifle first."

Leng shook his head.

"No, you won't. After our last… encounter I agreed to the Illusive Man's upgrades," the Cerberus operative said, and nodded once. "I was a fool to hesitate before. So much power… some with only a thought."

The gun in his hands gave a dwindling whistle and he watched the ammo indicator blink out, the trigger under his finger froze hard in place. Locked out. In disgust he threw the rifle to the ground.

"So now what? You came all the way to Thessia because I beat you in a fight?" Shepard challenged. "There's a war going on outside and that's all you care about?"

"I had a mission. One that is now complete. But your death… that is what really matters."

Leng took a few steps closer, a sneer on his lips as he continued to speak.

"He _idolizes_ you, do you know that? For years I listened to the Illusive Man talk about how 'Shepard has the strength to lead humanity into a new era'. Like some force of nature or messiah. But do you know what I think?"

He shifted one foot backwards and tensed his muscles as the assassin approached. More pain shot through him and he spared a glance downwards, grimacing. The dust on his left arm was dark and caked to his armor like mud. A piece of shrapnel must have punched through his armor and into his shoulder. It would explain the steadily growing pain. Shepard gritted his teeth and forced it aside.

"No, why don't you tell me?" he asked. "I'm always so concerned what a washed up soldier with an inferiority complex thinks of me."

"Inferior? You think _I'm_ inferior?" Kai Leng yelled, his calm facade slipping away. "I think you sold your _soul_! At every opportunity you gave away your humanity, wasted human lives and resources, for whatever alien whore would open her legs for you or alien government that would give you a taste of power!"

"I fought to save an entire galaxy, not just the lives of a few pathetic bigots," Shepard snapped back. "People like you can never seen beyond their own ignorance. There's no reason to talk to someone that can't even think for themselves."

Without waiting for Leng to respond, Shepard turned his back on the man. He heard a sound of anger behind him but focused on his surroundings. The scene wasn't promising. Garrus was on his knees with two soldiers behind him with rifles raised while Twilight's hulking form shifted uncomfortably. A ring of half a dozen Cerberus troops surrounded the rachni all armed with shotguns. Then a faint smile crossed his features.

"Don't turn your back on me, traitor," Leng growled.

Wiping the expression from his face the Spectre turned back to Leng.

"So you ambushed my team, Leng. Now what?"

"Now you die, of course. The Illusive Man should have had you all killed the minute you betrayed the interests of our species. At least this way I get to see your face as they bleed out."

Around him the soldiers raised their rifles and Leng began to turn away. They needed more time.

"All those cybernetic enhancements that you got, the strength, the speed… and I'd guess cerebral upgrades as well if you have your entire team's guns networked together," Shepard mused, putting as much disdain into his voice as he could. "I thought you'd want an actual fight."

The assassin's head snapped back in his direction and a cruel smile crossed his features.

"That is your… play, Shepard? You want to challenge me? For what? Their freedom? Mercy?" Leng sneered. "I know you're not that stupid. Even if by some incalculable chance you were able to best me, my men would gun down your precious little squad. You're pathetic."

"I'm not the pathetic one, Leng," Shepard disagreed. "I think I've figured you out."

"Figured me out?"

He nodded, giving a disdainful snort.

"You had some little alien girl as kid, didn't you? An asari, I'd bet, that you liked. But daddy was a drunk and a bigot too. I bet when he found you hanging out with a filthy asari he beat you. And he kept beating you until you became a good little monster. But it's still there, isn't it? You hate me because I'm what you _want_ to be!"

"You know nothing-"

"But it doesn't matter, you never will be. You're right, I can't make a deal with you. You'll just kill my team either way. Maybe I just want to show you what a real man is before I die then."

Silence stretched out for long moments as the pair locked gazes. Even with all the cybernetics robbing the man's face of much of his humanity Kai Leng couldn't keep the growing contempt from twisting his features. Finally the assassin turned to face him fully, drawing forth a single edged sword as he spoke.

"Execute them if they attempt escape. If Shepard attempts to use his biotics, execute them. Otherwise do not interfere, understood?"

"Yes, sir," the troopers stated in unison.

Leng held his blade in a low guard position, then reached behind him with his free hand and produced a knife. He recognized it instantly as the blade mission from the sheath at his back. To his surprise Leng tossed it on the ground at his feet.

"Show me what a 'man' is, Shepard. If you remember how to be one."

He crouched down and grabbed the knife, turning it in his hand until he grasped it tightly in a reverse grip. The pair approached each other slowly, both moving in a slow circle, knees bent. It seemed Leng's arrogance wasn't so much that he would do something as stupid as leave himself open.

The sword gave his opponent superior reach, but if Shepard was able to close it would give him the advantage as it longer blade would be a liability in extremely close quarters. He made a quick feint to his left, ducking under a swing from the blade as Leng reacted and then surged forward, only to twist at the last moment when the assassin sneered once more.

"Pathetic."

Leng reacted faster than he had any right to, flipping the sword in his hand and sweeping it back in the opposite direction. He got his left arm up and inside the other man's swing, checking the blow with his forearm against Leng's. The impact sent a shock of pain running down his arm and he took an involuntary step backward, shaking his arm slightly to fight of the growing numbness.

"Are you used to having aliens do your fighting for you, Shepard? Forgotten how to kill a man with a knife and your own hands?" Leng taunted.

This time it was the Cerberus operative that attacked, darting to one side and swinging the sword in an upward blow. He spun on his heel and brought his knife down, steel striking steel with a harsh scraping sound as blade was turned aside. Using the momentum Shepard continued his spin, stepping past Leng and driving his left elbow backwards into the man's skull with a crack.

His momentum carried him forward another two steps and he turned to see Leng doing the same, shaking his head from the blow and wavering slightly before straightening. Mentally Shepard cursed, that blow would have disabled a normal man… but it seemed Leng hadn't been exaggerating about his upgrades. Considering the pain he was in just from delivering the blow Shepard wouldn't get many more before his left arm became useless.

Leng immediately charged. He was inhumanly fast and Shepard was forced to try something more desperate. When Leng had covered half the distance the Spectre threw himself forward, hurling the knife in his grip directly at the assassin's head.

Just as he suspected it was easily deflected. The sword came up and knocked the knife aside, but it gave him the opening he needed. Shepard dropped his shoulder low into the other man's charge and caught him full in the stomach, gritting his teeth through the pain of the impact and bodily lifting Leng from the ground, flipping him over his shoulder and slamming the assassin into the stone floor.

The impact was jarring, but he couldn't take time to gather himself. He rolled to the side, raising his fist and driving it downwards into the joint of Leng's right arm. Briefly Shepard worried that the man had been so augmented that he wouldn't even have a pain reflex but it seemed some parts of Cerberus lackey were still organic. The arm holding the sword spasmed and lost its grip.

Unfortunately the same could be said for his own body. The assassin's armored knee drove viciously into his side and Shepard felt himself jerk sideways, raising an arm to block a blow to the head but still being knocked onto his back. Leng didn't waste the opportunity and attacked from above, driving his fist down in a blow that connected just above his eye and made Shepard's vision go white for a brief second.

A low, primal snarl ripped out of Shepard's throat and he knocked the assassin's fists to the side, throwing himself upwards to catch the man's face in a brutal headbutt. The force made Leng's weight shift back, letting Shepard push himself away. He lashed out with a kick that only managed to clip Leng's thigh but it forced the man further off balance buying him a few seconds to get his feet under him.

Warm blood oozed from his forehead where the punch had connected and Shepard blinked rapidly to clear his vision. Leng wiped blood from beneath his nose and looked down at the sword laying between them. His hands were back up in a defensive posture but the Spectre could feel his muscles trembling at the strain, more warm blood trickling down the joints of his armor from the wound in his shoulder.

"You're too slow, Shepard," Leng hissed, and dove for the sword.

He wasn't wrong. Two pained strides had taken him close to where the blade lay, but by then it was already in the assassin's hands. Like a predatory cat Leng came out of the dive and sprung forward, sword out. Shepard twisted in mid-step but the blade still bit home in his right side and opened up a wide slash across his ribs even through the armor.

The flash of pain dropped him to a knee and let out a gasp, fighting to keep his instincts in check. All it would take is a well timed surge of biotic power, one good punch with everything he had left, and he could bury his fist up to the wrist in the smug jackal's chest. But the moment that biotic glow flashed he might as well have pulled the trigger himself.

He looked up and found Tali watching him soundlessly, reflective white eyes widen but the hands to gripped her veil were steady. Every muscle was tensed. The Spectre forced a smile, knowing it couldn't have looked very reassuring through the blood and dust. With an effort of will he staggered to his feet, right hand pressed against the wound in his side and the blood dripped between his fingers.

"I'm not dead yet," he managed, turning to face the operative.

Leng twitched his wrist, slinging droplets of blood from the blade and laughed darkly.

"You were dead before this fight began. You'll die knowing that you failed," the assassin told him, stalking closer, voicing growing more vicious with every step. "But at least you won't have to watch what I do to your little alien pet!"

The blow came fast and without grace, a simple overhead stab with the downturned blade. Both of his hands shot upward, grabbing the blade at the small hilt and stopping it inches from driving deep into his shoulder. Every nerve in his body screamed at once as he fought back against the raw force of Leng driving the sword down. He dropped back to one knee, lips curled in an open snarl when the assassin began to press down.

"Not… yet…" he hissed.

"Why not?" Leng asked, expression transforming into a leer. "It's time for you to die, Shepard!"

"Because... " Shepard panted, and saw a faint glimmer out of the corner of his eye, then looked back up at Leng as his own face transformed into something vicious. "I haven't snapped your neck with my bare hands yet. Kasumi, now!"

Cries of surprise and pain suddenly echoed around the room as weapons erupted in showers of sparks, arcing electricity stabbing into unsuspecting hands. Rifles dropped to the stone floor with metallic clatter. All at once Shepard summoned upon what little energy he had left and channeled it directly forward. Azure energy streaked up his arms and slammed into Leng in a wave, throwing him ten meters backwards towards the entrance of the temple.

Weapons disabled, the half dozen troopers surrounding Twilight barely had a chance to scream as razor sharp claws tore into their armor and biotic energy shredded whatever was left. Garrus' pair fared little better. The first had one of his knee shattered and talons driving into his throat before he even realized what was happening, the second at least got a punch in but a split second later the turian had him on the ground and ended the man's struggles with sickening crack. Through watery eyes he turned and saw Tali standing with that little boot knife in hand, slick with blood while Samara rose like a phoenix, tearing into the remaining soldiers.

"Bring it all down!" Kai Leng screamed, scrambling to his feet.

The gunship reappeared heartbeats later, the assassin making a long jump to grab its landing struts and pull himself inside. Its heavy mass accelerator spun up and began to fill the temple with a hail of metal.

"Shep, we have to go now!" Kasumi yelled.

Her stealth net dropped as she fired a burst from her submachine gun into one of the remaining troopers. Then the slim thief ducked under his arm, laboriously dragging him to his feet as she continued to speak.

"I put up a wide spectrum jamming frequency so their missiles won't fire but it's not going to take them long to override that!"

"This way!" Samara barked, gesturing for them to follow.

They'd made it halfway across the ruined temple floor before the first explosion sent more stone and dust flying through the temple. The missile had streaked straight from the gunship into a far wall… it seemed they'd managed to override Kasumi's little present, but the weapons were restricted to dumb fire.

"Cortez, we need extraction now!" Garrus said next to him.

Shepard wasn't entirely sure when the turian had appeared under his other arm. It was hard to focus, but he could still make out the voices of his team, weapons fire, and an odd song in the back of his mind. It took a moment to realize it was Twilight, or at least it felt like Twilight. It wasn't singing in the way that the rachni spoke… more like a low, basso melody that pulsed with a steady rhythm.

"Team…" he slurred.

Garrus' blue paint became an indistinct blur.

"Everyone's alive, Shepard. We're getting out of here."

For the second time in so many minutes, he slipped into unconsciousness again.

* * *

><p>Shepard awoke to find himself on the Normandy. More specifically in the infirmary with a very stern looking Dr. Chakwas staring at him. He looked to his right and found Tali asleep on the other infirmary bed.<p>

"Welcome back to consciousness, Commander," the doctor said dryly.

"What happened?"

"You lost consciousness, obviously," Garrus interjected.

The turian was standing by the door with his arms crossed, looking tired but otherwise healthy.

"Helpful," he said. "What's our status?"

Garrus' mandibles went flat against his face and he sighed.

"We're in transit to the relay. Thessia is… lost. We made it out of the temple within barely twenty seconds to spare before Leng and his damn gunship brought the place down. It's nothing but rubble now."

"And you, again, pushed yourself too far," Chakwas added. "You lost a great deal of blood. Using your biotics in the state you did and expending that much energy after significant blood loss… your heart was in danger of stopping."

He blinked in surprise, hazy recollections of their escape coming back.

"That was the song... " he muttered. "Sings-Twilight was literally keeping my heart beating."

"I'm going to assume that's what he meant by 'singing the rhythm of pulsing life-songs'," Chakwas agreed. "You've been out for about seven hours. I removed the shrapnel from your shoulder and closed the wound in your side. The fluid and nutrients seem to have given your enhancements what they needed to restore your systems."

Shepard glanced over at the other bed.

"What about Tali?"

"Fine," Chakwas said with a smile. "She merely wanted to stay until you woke. I convinced her to turn off her helmet audio receptors and relax… and of course she fell fast asleep."

Shepard closed his eyes briefly, laying back against the bed.

"We lost," he said bitterly. "Whatever Cerberus wanted Kai Leng got… and he destroyed the beacon in the process. Our leads, all that knowledge. Gone."

"Not quite," Garrus replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Tali told me about that AI uploading data into our comm network. I saw it come up on my omni-tool right when Leng and his gunships ambushed us. Had Kasumi check as soon as we got back aboard, apparently it's still running the same loop. Whatever it sent is still there."

He sat up, immediately waving Chakwas away.

"What did we get?"

Garrus shrugged.

"No idea. EDI said it was difficult to calculate but it appeared that the amount of data was massive, too massive for the Normandy databanks. If she tried she was afraid that we'd hit capacity and whatever else would be lost. We need somewhere with a lot of space. I figured the Citadel was our best bet."

Shepard swung his legs over the side of the bed and nodded.

"I've got a better idea."

"Well, let's hear it," Garrus said with a smirk.

"EDI?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Set course for Omega."

* * *

><p><em>Long time coming, but here at least. Please excuse any errors as I didn't have time to get this over to the betas in an effort to get this out for Xmas!<em>

_Good holidays to everyone and here's to 2015, the year Razor's Edge will finally draw to a close!_


	36. Chapter 35: Paths

Chapter 35: Paths

"Gravitational stability achieved!"

A ragged cheer went up through the control room, dozens of voices jubilant in their success. Hands slapped backs and pounded consoles. Miranda held up a hand to her mouth to hide a smirk that spread unbidden across her features when one of the communications techs, a turian, leaned across the aisle to plant a kiss on her human companion's lips. From the way surprise changed to distracted pleasure she strongly suspected that was one celebration that would be continuing in private.

"Shepard made a wise decision placing you in charge of an impossible task," Liara said behind her. "He knew you'd never settle for failure."

She turned and saw that the asari was smiling as well, flanked by Javik and Ashley Williams. The air of excitement finally won out and she let her own amusement show through. Liara's assessment wasn't an exaggeration, at least in their cycle no one had ever attempted to move trillions of tons of mass through a relay, much less dragging that considerable mass all the way into the galaxy's core to nestle in a narrow safe zone between half a dozen black holes.

But that was exactly what they had done. Weeks of engineering and careful calculations, dozens of ships flying in careful unison… all focused in on one pivotal moment. They had used the station's own mass effect field and literally pulled it through the relay like an ancient unpowered sailing vessel with half a dozen dreadnoughts as tugboats. Now the station was poised precisely in the same position as former Collector base, massive generators holding it in place against the constant tug of the gravitational anomalies.

"I am well aware of my own, not inconsiderable, capabilities… but I did have my doubts," Miranda admitted, turning back to look at the celebrating techs.

"If you'd had doubts you would have been supervising from the deck of one of the carriers, not standing on the station that was in danger of being thrown into a black hole," Liara pointed out. "We all would have been."

Javik's always pointed commentary interjected.

"Indeed, this achievement will assure that your name will be recorded in histories for thousands of years. That is, of course, assuming that those histories survived the Reaper's cycle of annihilation which is unlikely."

She arched a dark brow at the prothean standing in the doorway of the control room.

"I might have been double checking the calculations and coordinating, but this effort was the combined work of thousands of individuals from every species in the galaxy. I am not quite arrogant enough to claim credit for myself, though you are correct in assuming that the Reapers might make it a moot point."

"Many wonders of engineering and science wrought by the Prothean Empire were lost in much the same way," Javik said, his tone becoming oddly reflective for the usually brusque alien.

"Then we don't lose," Ashley spoke up finally, shaking her head. "We've come this far… we'll go the rest of the way. Shepard will see to that."

Liara gave the human marine an odd look.

"Considering your previous… doubts, I find your sudden faith interesting."

"Faith is strongest only when it's been tested," she replied immediately, meeting Liara's look with an unwavering expression. "I know what he can do and I won't make the same mistake again."

The asari's only response was a serene nod of acknowledgment. All around them voices rose in a chatter as ships were directed into position around the now stabilized station, along with the still ecstatic buzz of success. One of the technicians spun in his chair and looked directly at her.

"Ma'am! I have Commander Shepard on the comm… the Normandy is on her way through the relay!" one the comm tech said excitedly.

Miranda blinked once and shook her head.

"That man certainly has a sense of timing."

"You have no idea," Liara muttered beside her.

* * *

><p>The galactic core snapped into smoldering focus as the Normandy exited the relay. Just as he remembered, the area was a sea of ancient wreckage backlit in the red-gold glow of the black hole's accretion disk. When they had come through before it had been into an area devoid of life and nearly resulted in a collision with drifting debris. Breathtaking in the same way as the weight of an ancient graveyard pressed against the senses.<p>

Now it was an entirely different sense of awe that coursed through him.

Like massive broadswords of old, half a dozen turian _Legatus_-class dreadnoughts hung in the void surrounding the mushroom shape of Omega station. Swarming between them were another dozen cruisers and two more dreadnoughts of human design: _Kilimanjaro_-class vessels. Outside the Normandy's view ports he could see more vessels hanging at the very edge of the safe zone: a pair of carriers and one vessel that could only be one of the quarian liveships.

More civilian vessels were clearing away debris below them as they passed, while fighters made passes around the outskirts of the safe zone. This was more than a fleet, it was an armada. And every single weapon was pointed directly at the exit point for the mass relay. A wolfish smile crossed Shepard's features.

"Well, someone is certainly feeling… creepy," Joker said next to him as he piloted the ship towards Omega's dock.

"I was just thinking of the reaction of the first Reaper that crosses that threshold."

Joker's expression became a mirror of the Commander's.

"Oh yea, man. 'Fear me, I am an all powerful Reaper… wow, that's a lot of guns.' The expression on their faces would be priceless."

"Reapers do not have faces, Jeff. They cannot have expressions," EDI pointed out.

"Well… yea. But if they did it would be awesome," he said, reaching out to tap the comms. "This is the Normandy, requesting final docking instructions."

The warship slipped among the massive fleet and finally came to rest nestled against the side of the rocky station near the upper levels. He immediately gave the crew limited leave. Omega was still very much in bad shape, but after seeing what had happened to Thessia he knew many of them just needed time off the ship. Much of it likely spent in a bar.

"Never thought I'd keep coming back here," Garrus said. "Certainly not when it was under friendly terms and under Alliance control."

"Necessity is the mother of invention… three years ago I wouldn't have thought of anything this ambitious either," Shepard agreed.

The turian nodded and shook his head.

"Sure it still smells, though."

When the airlock finally cycled, though, Shepard was greeted not by the acrid tang of Omega's atmosphere and low roar of its unruly crowds but by the loud snap of booted feet on metal deck plating. Outside the airlock a dozen marines in Alliance uniforms stood at attention flanking the airlock. At the end of the line stood two women, one human, one turian. The human he recognized immediately and a small smile crossed his lips.

"Permission to come aboard, Miranda?"

"Permission granted."

"Praetor on deck!"

A dozen hands snapped into a salute as soon as his foot touched the station's deck plating. It felt strange. The last years he had spent scrapping and fighting just to get the barest of support for a war that only he believed to be inevitable. Now he was being treated with the same respect as an admiral or state figure. Some part of him felt gratified by the change… but the far greater part twisted his guts into a knot.

"At ease," Shepard ordered immediately, moving to the last soldier in the line and giving the man a tired smile. "I appreciate the welcome, Sergeant, but I'm sure you and your men have better things to do. Dismissed."

The soldier nodded and returned the smile, motioning for his men to move out.

"Your idea?" he asked.

Miranda shook her head and gestured to the woman next to her. She was a turian with colony markings he didn't recognize. As tall as he was with less bulk than Garrus, but when she offered her hand in a surprisingly human gesture, he could tell from her grip that she was no administrator or functionary. The pistol on her hip with it's well-worn grip only served to reinforce that impression.

"Nyreen Kandros," the woman said. "I felt that this station was due for some traditions being followed… maybe it will remind the people that this isn't the lawless jungle it once was."

He released her hand and looked around. Indeed, they were not alone, though a heavily armed ring of soldiers kept people at a distance. Dozens upon dozens of people, many of them clearly Omega natives, were watching. Most of them looked tired and more than a little dirty, but as a whole, they seemed to be buzzing with excitement.

"They were all given the opportunity to leave Omega before we brought it through the relay, seek shelter among the united fleets," Miranda explained, glancing at the crowd. "Less than a thousand took that offer."

Kanrdos clicked her mandibles loudly and shook her head.

"The galaxy might not think much of Omega, but we're strong. This is our home, we're not abandoning it… even if it's been dragged into the center of the galaxy."

"When all this is over the galaxy will need that kind of stubbornness if we're going to rebuild what's been lost," Shepard said.

Garrus' dry tone interjected from behind as the turian exited the airlock and took up position next to him with a smirk.

"Stubbornness certainly isn't something that Omega is lacking in. It will be nice to see it put to good use for once."

"Took your time to leave the airlock?" Shepard asked with a raised brow.

"Didn't want to spoil your big entrance. Would have been embarrassing if they all saluted me… you know, on instinct," the turian said smugly.

He would have had a comeback of his own for that, but Nyreen stepped forward. She stared at the other spectre with intensity, mandibles tight against the side of her face. When she spoke it was with far more reverence than Shepard had been afforded.

"You're him… Archangel."

"Not anymore," Garrus replied flatly.

"You are here. You always will be," Nyreen countered, shaking her head. "The only reason the Talons exist in their current state is because of what you did. You showed people that someone could stand up and make a difference. You were Omega's first hero in a hundred years."

For the first time in a long time, his turian friend was at a loss for words. The silence lasted for an uncomfortable moment before he was saved by a shimmer in the air. Kandros tensed and took a step back, hand dropping to the gun on her hip, when Kasumi materialized next to Garrus. Shepard raised a hand in warning and to her credit the turian woman immediately backed down.

"He does like to show off," the slim thief chirped and gave Shepard a sidelong glance. "Maybe we shouldn't indulge him in front of such a big crowd, though… his ego is big enough."

"A very good idea," Miranda agreed. "We can let these soldiers get back to their duties. We've been using Afterlife as the CIC. This way."

He caught a grateful look from beneath Kasumi's hood before they began to make their way through the crowd, an escort of marines around them. Hands pushed past the soldiers, reaching for him. A human woman dropped to her knees a few feet away as if in prayer. Somewhere in the back of the crowd a chant began: _Shepard. Shepard. Shepard._

It was strange. Even after the Battle of the Citadel, when he had been hounded by reporters or approached by starstruck survivors of the battle it had never been like this. The marines kept them moving even as the press of people thickened and the chant continued. A part of him couldn't help but feel buoyed by the sudden outpouring of faith.

The Spectre's expression quickly soured when the counterpoint crept up from the back of his mind like a snake moving through the weeds. What happened if he failed and those chants became screams?

* * *

><p>Omega had certainly changed in a short time. It wasn't exactly night and day, the place was centuries old and had spent most of that time being barely maintained. But the feeling of the place was nothing like the first time he had set foot aboard. Lights along the major walkways were all lit and people moving back and forth didn't look nearly so suspicious and terrified of every movement.<p>

So too had Afterlife changed. The guards at the door were marines, a turian and a human respectively, and the interior was no longer a sea of shadows pierced by pulsing neon lights and heavy bass thumps. The main dance floor had become a sea of computer terminals while makeshift offices replaced most of the seating, the bar itself having become a central desk. A thorough cleaning had also taken place. The carpet was still well worn red and the trim was dark reds and black, contrasting with the metallics and grays of the new equipment.

What had once been Aria's seat of power had been converted into a small command center and office. It seemed likely it had been Cerberus' work, the equipment and design didn't match the rest of the hastily added, pre-fab equipment. Shepard reached down and touched an icon on the holotable that occupied the middle of the room, watching a schematic of the station spring to life.

"You've accomplished a great deal in a short amount of time, Miranda," he said, impressed. "I wasn't expecting things to be nearly this organized after less than two weeks."

"It was a group effort. Nyreen's Talons bolstered our ground forces significantly once Cerberus' forces stood down. We were able to wipe out the remaining adjutants and begin work within days," Miranda explained, cocking an eyebrow at him. "If you hadn't shown up immediately after we successfully transitioned through the Relay the difference would have been even more noticeable."

"It's already noticeable," Nyreen added. "For the first time ever people aren't walking the streets afraid of being assaulted by thugs and mercenaries."

The former Cerberus operative nodded in agreement.

"I won't argue that it was a success… if a costly one. We lost good men. Zaeed included."

Shepard sighed, a flash of the scarred mercenary's face crossing his memory.

"He died with honor. It was more than I expected from one of the Terminus'

most notorious mercenaries," the turian said.

"The people we least expect are the ones that usually surprise us the most, Ms. Kandros," he said, a sad smile on his face.

"On a more positive note, there is someone I'd like you to meet, Shepard," Miranda interjected, reaching down to press a button on the console next to her. "Get in here, Lieutenant."

The doors to the office opened and a young man stepped inside. Or younger. After a moment's examination Shepard would guess the man was in his mid-twenties. Barely half a decade the Spectre's own junior, yet it felt like a lifetime.

His uniform was wrinkled and not quite the right size, lieutenant's bars on his right shoulder smeared with grease or some other grime. Dark brown hair and a long angular face were offset by brown eyes that looked more tired than they ought to for a man that was at the prime of his life. The sling that kept his left arm immobile might have had something to do with that.

"Miranda, I'm almost finished w-w-w…" the lieutenant began before trailing off in a stammer.

Anyone else might have missed it, but Shepard was certain that the corner of Miranda's mouth quirked upwards ever so slightly before she spoke.

"Praetor Shepard, may I present Lieutenant Thomas Carmichael."

To his credit, the man gathered himself fairly quickly, snapping a crisp salute that was at odds with his somewhat disheveled appearance. Shepard returned the salute and then gave him a small smile.

"At ease, soldier."

"Carmichael was the pilot of our shuttle during the initial landing," Miranda said casually. "He got us down safely and managed to maintain his composure in extremely demanding circumstances. It is not an exaggeration to say that his actions and decisions during this mission were heroic."

Shepard fought to keep his smile in check as Carmichael visibly reddened at the praise. He wondered if the man knew just how significant that praise was. Miranda had softened considerably since the first time they met, but she still wasn't one that handed out pats on the head. The content of her message also sprang to mind. Zaeed's final act had been to give this young soldier his most prized possession, entrusting him with the battered old rifle that had been the mercenary's one constant companion for his long life.

"I was just trying to survive, sir," Carmichael finally said, regret filling his tone. "I wish I could have done more."

The smile fell from Shepard's face and he stepped forward, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder when he spoke.

"If you had done anything less than everything in your power you wouldn't be standing here. Miranda Lawson isn't a woman that uses words like heroic lightly."

"I… don't feel like a hero, sir."

"You never do. No matter how hard you fight, how hard you try, you will always wonder if you could have done more," he replied quietly. "I'm sorry, son, but that's a weight you'll always carry. Don't let it drown you. Remember the people that are alive because of what you've done."

Carmichael visibly swallowed, but nodded once as he continued. Shepard let a small smile return to his features.

"I don't have a medal or commendation to give you, Lieutenant… after this war is over, maybe, but for now all I can say is thank you. You stood up when others would have faltered and because of that some of the people I considered my most trusted friends and allies are still alive today."

"Thank you, sir," the man replied, voice thick.

"While I don't have a medal to pin on your chest, maybe I can at least buy you a drink later, soldier. I'd love to hear an outsider's perspective on Ms. Lawson here or Jack for that matter," Shepard added after a moment, adding some levity to his tone.

"I… uh, I'm not sure if that would be good for my health. Sir," the younger man said.

"He's clearly not an idiot at least," Miranda commented dryly.

"Clearly. Which brings me to my next order of business," Shepard agreed and took a step back from the young lieutenant, moving to stand in front of the large desk that dominated the other half of the room.

He took a moment to look at the gathered individuals. Garrus had remained silent for the entire exchange, leaning against the far wall with Kasumi perched on the railing next to him, feet dangling. Nyreen Kandros had been watching the exchange with interest and Miranda simply looked curious. Lieutenant Carmichael made a gesture that was clearly a silent question of whether he should leave, but Shepard held up a hand.

"I am still adjusting to my new title and authority, but I am becoming much more comfortable with it," he began. "And with exercising it. My first order of business was to sign this."

A few quick taps on his omni-tool and the document transmitted to the datapad sitting on the desk. He picked it up and tossed it to Miranda, who caught it easily. Her blue eyes quickly darted across the screen.

"A… pardon?"

"Technically you were still a part of Cerberus. Not a detail that mattered a great deal considering our current state of war, but something I wanted to make sure was taken care of."

He didn't bother to spell out the rest of the statement. It was in case he didn't survive the war. The last thing he wanted was for the people that had made their victory possible to be persecuted after they won. Even in the best case scenario there was going to be thousands of people left without homes, without families. Angry, grief stricken people acted irrationally. The least he could do was prevent any abuses he could.

"It also makes it legal for me to make the next offer."

Miranda's gaze shot up from the datapad, dark brows reaching even higher.

"You retook this station, Miranda, but that was only the beginning. You know as well as anyone of the importance of what we've done here. This is our one safe refuge and here is the one place in the galaxy that organic life might weather the storm if all else fails. And with that comes a great deal of responsibility. A responsibility I would like you to assume."

"Me?" she asked, for once actually seeming surprised.

"You. I am offering you an official commission in the New Systems Alliance, Miranda Lawson, as commanding officer of Omega station. Admiral Shepard will still command the new Omega fleet, but the station will be under your command."

"A former Cerberus operative? Command Alliance soldiers in what is the most important posting in the galaxy other than the Citadel?" she asked, shaking her head. "Do you really think that will work, Shepard?"

He gestured around him.

"It already has. This was your mission, and you accomplished it. You've begun something here and I want you to finish it. No more hiding in the shadows. And as part of this commission you'll also need to assemble your own command staff. I leave those choices to your discretion… if you so choose. I'm not making a demand, Miranda. But I do believe you are the best woman for the job."

There was a long pause, but he didn't prompt her further. He could envision the thoughts streaking through her mind, weighing risks and benefits, calculating every probability. It was no small responsibility nor was it a minimal risk to a woman that had spent her entire life avoiding the attention of the powers that be.

"Nyreen, I'll need a chief of security. I can't think of anyone better suited," Miranda said, breaking the silence.

The turian looked surprised, but quickly nodded.

"Gladly."

"I take it this means you're accepting?" Shepard asked, a lopsided smirk on his face.

"I am. I left Cerberus but I didn't leave the habits behind. As you said… it's time to leave the shadows."

"Then let me officially welcome you to the New Systems Alliance, Major Lawson."

She took his offered hand, squeezing it firmly. When she released his grip the newly minted officer turned to face Carmichael, hands resting at her back. She gave him a long look and the man quickly became flustered.

"What?" he finally demanded, catching himself a moment later to sheepishly add the honorific. "Ma'am."

"I've apparently been giving free reign to select my own team and if I'm going to run an entire station I'm going to need help. Specifically an aide-de-camp. It's not glamorous… but it is important. I need someone I can trust and I think that person is you."

Carmichael seemed nonplussed for a few long seconds before he raised his arm in a salute.

"I don't know if I'm qualified or not, but I'll do everything in my power to live up to the expectation."

"I'm certain you will, Lieutenant," Miranda agreed, a genuine smile appearing on her face for the first time before she turned her attention back to Shepard. "It seems I've got a great deal of work to do. Sings-Twilight, Javik, and Vega are all one level down working on the reconstruction effort. Did you want an escort to stop in on them?"

The image of Vega, flexing and showing off to a confused rachni and a thoroughly disinterested prothean sent a spark of amusement through him, but it quickly flickered out when his thoughts turned to their most recent mission.

"No. There is someone else I need to see first. I'll find my way. When you get a moment, contact EDI, Miranda. She was able to capture a large amount of data and Omega's system's might be large enough to contain it," he said, and moved to the door, pausing next to Carmichael. "Take care of her, Lieutenant."

With that, he stepped out of the command center. As much as he wanted to celebrate their success… first he had to deal with the consequences of his failures.

* * *

><p>It appeared that Afterlife's main floor hadn't been the only area to receive some major renovations in short order. Where once a surly bouncer would have stood guard at the lower level of the busy nightclub, now a military grade security door silently barred the way, a small keypad with a biometric scanner graced the wall next to it. Before he could reach for it, the small glowing form of the drone Glyph appeared.<p>

"Greetings. Please place your hand in the scanner for verification."

"Hello, Glyph. That was what I was doing."

"Very good," the drone chirped and then simply hovered in place, waiting. A second after Shepard placed his hand in the scanner the door slid open soundlessly and he stepped inside with Glyph trailing after.

Monitors and holo terminals lined one entire wall, while a military style cot and a few crates of effects had been relegated to one corner of the large room. A table, clearly scavenged from Afterlife itself due to the reddish colored glass it was made from and its irregular shape, sat in the middle of the room with a dozen data pads strewn across it with a handful of chairs ringing it. The only legacy of its original purpose as a lounge was the plush couch against the wall to his left.

Liara stood at the center of it all, the orange glow of the holograms in the otherwise dim light making her skin appear an even deeper shade of blue. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she stared at the sea of scrolling data. He was reminded of the first time he'd seen her after his return to life, in her office on Illium coldly threatening a man that was withholding information.

"Liara?" he asked.

The asari didn't turn to face him when she spoke, but that grim facade cracked when he noticed the way her body trembled.

"My people are dying by millions, Shepard."

"I know," the Spectre agreed quietly.

"I've spent most of my life studying the protheans… and my mother hid the most important discovery in the history of our cycle from me. I must have been such a joke to her when I began my studies," Liara said, bitterness and anger in every word. "And then I become the most powerful information broker in the galaxy, only to not know the one secret that could have prevented all of this."

"I wasn't aware you were precognitive as well. That seems like it would have been useful."

Liara's head snapped in his direction, unshed tears in her eyes contrasting with an expression of outrage.

"What?"

He took a step forward and crossed his arms over his chest, meeting her gaze without flinching.

"You were a scientist, and yes, an information broker. Not a prophet, Liara. We _did_ warn your people, my people, the Council. For years, we've told them this was coming. Their inaction is not your fault. As for your mother…"

The memory of Benezia's final moments were one of those memories that would likely never leave him, always haunting his thoughts in the darkest hours of the night. In her final moments, the fallen matriarch had given them the key to their eventual victory… but he remembered the look in her eyes, the pain, regret, and the iron will that allowed her to make her final sacrifice despite it all. From his conversations with Liara about her childhood, Shepard had never gotten the impression that Benezia had been a particularly good mother. But she had been one in the end.

"She let me live a lie."

"She let you live your life," he countered, more gently this time. "The punishments for withholding prothean technology are among the most severe in Council space. I don't think any mother wouldn't try to protect their daughter from that."

Another shudder passed through Liara's slim frame as the tears escaped and began coursing down her cheeks, hands balled into fists at her waist. A small sob escaped her lips and the asari's shoulders began to shake.

"Maybe you're right," she choked out. "But Thessia is still dying while I'm here! I'm safe while my world is harvested… we were supposed to stop this!"

Shepard stepped forward then, placing his hands on Liara's shoulders and squeezing tightly.

"Liara, the galaxy is dying. In every breath and every heartbeat, lives are slipping away. We haven't given up. We fight, tooth and claw for every bloody scrap of ground. I promise you we will end this. But we have to keep fighting."

"What if we can't win? What if this has… has all been for nothing... a delusion?"

"It will always mean something. Our lives mean something," Shepard said firmly, maintaining his grip. "No matter how they end, we've made our choices. Our experiences, the lives we've changed for good or ill… the Reapers can destroy, but they can't change the fact that we _lived_. We've fought, loved, mourned, and never given up."

He let her cry, continuing to speak quietly.

"I will never stop. Even if it means in the end that we fail, surviving as a legacy for the next cycle… I promise you that when this ends, one way or the other, the galaxy will not be the same. Either we crush them once and for all or they will remember us as the cycle that finally stood against them, leaving them with scars so deep that they will never fully recover."

After a second, she sagged in his grip, her own arms coming to rest on his shoulders as if to hold herself up. He let her stay there in silence, more tears and a few quiet sobs eventually trailing off into silence. When she looked up the tears were gone, though her eyes still glittered wetly. A very tired smile had replaced the expression of anguish on her face at least.

"You've always known the right thing to say, Shepard," Liara murmured, shaking her head. "Killers, crime lords, monsters, politicians… even frightened archaeologists. After all this time I think that might be your real gift."

"That would be nice. Maybe in another life that would have been enough," he replied.

Liara nodded.

"Maybe."

Slowly the asari pulled away and turned her attention back to the bank of screens. Her fingers tapped hesitantly tapped at a few keys before picking up the pace. Finally, she nodded to herself and glanced over at him.

"You're right, though. We can't stop fighting. I can't save Thessia… but maybe I can save my people. There are refugees that have nowhere to go. The Shadow Broker's network is crippled, but I can use what influence I have left to try and get them somewhere safe."

"That's the Liara I know," he said.

"But not the same one you met in that ruin. I wonder if I'd known then what path my life would take… if I'd make the same choices. Become the same person."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I think she became a woman her mother would have been proud of," he replied. "I'll let you get to work."

As he turned to leave Liara's voice stopped him when he was halfway to the door.

"Shepard?"

He looked over his shoulder, arching a brow in response.

"If the Normandy hadn't been destroyed that day… do you think things would have changed? Our paths have gone differently? Or are we all just part of some grand plan?"

A hundred answers ran through his mind, but none of them seemed sufficient. Finally, he simply shrugged, moving towards the door once. He paused at the threshold as he activated the door controls, meeting Liara's gaze.

"I don't think there's a plan, Liara. Just choices. All we can do is live with the one's we've made."

He stepped through the open door and let it silently slide shut behind him, leaving Liara alone in the dim light of the consoles to work.

* * *

><p>"<em>This isn't right, sir," he says.<em>

_The vessel is beautiful. All sleek lines that c__omplement__its aggressive, arrowhead like profile. Bright white letters along her bow proclaim proudly her name: Normandy. Fast, silent, and deadly, she is a vessel that would not command the prestige of a dreadnought or a carrier. But for men of a certain mind she was mechanical perfection._

"_She's quick and quiet. The perfect ship for a Spectre," Anderson replies._

"_Give me the truth, sir. You've always been straight with me. Why would you resign now?"_

"_A Spectre can answer only to the Council and you need a ship. It's… time for me to step aside."_

_Shepard shakes his head._

"_It doesn't make sense. You saw what happened on Eden Prime. You shouldn't be sidelined when something like this is."_

_A sigh escapes from Anderson's lips and the older man turns to lean against the railing, looking over the warship. The pensive look on his face was an unfamiliar expression to the young commander, Anderson had always been a calm, decisive presence. That quiet strength was probably the only reason Shepard had chosen to remain in the service after Akuze._

"_Twenty years ago, I was in your position," Anderson says at last, not looking at him. "It's a long story but the part you need to know is that I was on a mission with Saren. He made certain that when it was over the Council would never accept my candidacy."_

_He blinks in surprise._

"_You mentioned this before."_

"_I screwed up, I had my shot and I lost it. Now you have the chance to make a difference and I am going to make certain you have everything you need. That includes a vessel worthy of a Spectre and a crew good enough to take whatever the galaxy throws at them."_

_Shepard feels his jaw tighten at the thought. After a second he moves to mirror the older man's pose, leaning against the railing to gaze at the ship. He swallows a tight feeling, forcing it down deep into his chest._

"_I'm an operative, sir. I… work best without people slowing me down."_

"_You mean without people that might get killed if you screw up."_

_It takes every ounce of self-control not to flinch at the words._

"_I understand the risks, sir, but-"_

"_You can't take on a man like Saren with a sniper rifle and extra magazines, son," Anderson chastises him, his tone firm but warm. "He has an army of geth, a powerful warship, and the resources of a man that has spent decades living in the shadows."_

_He tries to argue, but Anderson raises one weathered hand and the sound dies in his throat as Anderson continues._

"_I know you never wanted to command a ship. You'd be happy being sent to every batarian backwater stronghold and pirate base, doing what you do best. But you are more than just a man pulling a trigger. You might not want to hear it, but the people you serve with look up to you. Even Jenkins."_

_Through another effort of will__,__ Shepard doesn't look down at his hands. Jenkin's blood won't be there, but it feels as if it should be. The man was reckless, he knows that, but he'd also been a damn good soldier._

"_If I was that worthy of admiration Jenkins family wouldn't have gotten a knock on their door yesterday," he says bitterly._

"_What would you have done differently?"_

_The question surprises him, but Shepard takes a moment to think._

"_I could have taken point, had the team set their omni-tools to alternate scanning frequencies. We weren't aware of the exact nature of the threat, I shouldn't have assumed it would be organic," he answers finally._

"_Then why didn't you?"_

"_When working in small teams I generally provide overwatch to get a better view of the field of engagement and identify immediate threats. But I didn't catch the movement in time."_

"_So based on the information you had at hand you made a choice to use a strategy that you knew to be sound and allowed yourself and your team to be the most effective," Anderson states, nodding. "You made a choice."_

"_The wrong choice."_

_Anderson's laugh surprises him, though the sound is laced with bitterness._

"_It's always the wrong choice, Shepard. You're always going to think later on 'what if I'd done this instead?' For the dock worker or the teacher? That regret might be a promotion they didn't get or just a movie they missed. Our stakes are higher. But you can't refuse to make the choice because you're worried of getting it wrong."_

_Memories flash through his head. Enrolling for the service. His encounter with the first drill instructor and the thrashing he'd received. That first step onto the path to becoming a train special forces soldier. The taste of a stolen kiss behind the mess on maneuvers. Screams of marines dying around him on Akuze. Waking up in a military hospital. Re-enlisting after his rehabilitation. He sees Anderson looking at him and realizes the silence has stretched on for minutes._

"_Sorry, sir…"_

"_Don't apologize. You've got a lot ahead of you. And you're going to need a good crew to do it. That means relying on people, trusting them, and yes, putting them in danger."_

_He nods once._

"_How do you do it, sir?"_

_Anderson smiles and gives a small shrug of his shoulders._

"_You make choices. And when it's all said and done, when you're alone with your thoughts, you hope that you can live with them."_

_He turns and faces the captain fully, giving him a crisp salute that Anderson returns. Behind him he hears voices approaching. A deep bass rumble arguing with a sharper, flanged tone that sounds as if they're arguing. _

"_Thank you, sir. I promise I'll take care of her. She's a good ship."_

"_I know you will."_

_The voices grow closer and a new voice interjects, one colored by lilting accent that itself was given a synthetic edge by a suit's speakers._

"_Commander Shepard?"_

"Shepard?"

He started and blinked, feeling sluggish.

"John?"

A familiar visor looked down at him, silvery eyes amused. He blinked again and lifted his head away from where it was propped against his right fist.

"Sorry, I got distracted. I'll pay attention."

"Mhm," Tali hummed doubtfully, shaking her head. "Distracted. You fell asleep."

"Sorry, sorry," he repeated, and then reached out to snake an arm around her waist suddenly with a wide grin, pulling her down towards him. "I promise I'll make it up to you…"

"John!" Tali squeaked.

And then someone cleared their throat.

His brain immediately took a back seat as the unexpected noise triggered his instincts. The arm around Tali's waist tightened immediately and he pulled her in and away from the sound, even as he pushed himself forward. His right hand shot out, fingers quickly finding the well-worn grip of the Alliance issue predator that he kept beneath the small table next to the couch.

"John!" Tali barked, this time her voice was sharp and commanding.

It wasn't necessary, though, as he'd stopped halfway through the motion and only made it as far as standing. A woman in her mid fifties sat in the chair on the other side of the table, a smirk on her face and a steaming mug in one hand. Her auburn hair was lined with gray, more than he remembered, but her eyes were still as bright as ever.

"M-Mom?"

Tali, still trapped in his iron firm grip, sighed heavily.

"Keelah."

"I… but…" he stammered, his brain rapidly trying to catch up even as he felt heat rising to his cheeks. "You said your shuttle would be docking…"

"In an hour?" the elder Shepard helpfully finished for him.

"Which is what I was going to tell you," Tali interjected dryly. "You dozed off half an hour ago in the middle of our conversation about the drive core."

Shepard nodded, slowly, and chose his words carefully.

"And you've been here for…"

"Oh, only about ten minutes," his mother answered, still smiling. "Tali and I were having a chat while you were snoring."

It was around that time that his brain finally, completely, caught up to the present moment. Which meant that he finally realized that he was standing in front of his couch wearing his pants, no shirt, half carrying Tali with one arm. He quickly released the bemused quarian and moved around the table to his dresser, grabbing a worn Alliance shirt from a drawer.

"Please, not like I haven't seen it all," Hannah snorted in amusement, though her tone became slightly grimmer as she continued. "Though the last time I saw you there weren't nearly so many scars."

"Occupational hazard. Hello, Mom… sorry for dozing off," he replied.

Hannah Shepard merely smiled and sat her coffee down, standing to embrace him tightly.

"Another few months without communication… at least it was in the middle of a war this time," his mother chastised, but unlike their last reunion there wasn't any real heat to it. "This time around at least a certain quarian was able to help me keep tabs on my son."

"Sorry, it's-"

"No, I understand," she interrupting. "It hasn't been easy for anyone."

He returned to his place on the couch and took a seat across from his mother, while Tali dropped down beside him. Unlike the last time, they had been in this position Tali showed no nervousness and leaned against him easily. He quirked an eyebrow at her, wondering just how much she'd been talking to his mother.

"We lost too many good people in those first engagements," Hannah continued, letting out a tired sigh. "But we saved even more because of Hackett's quick thinking and your warnings."

He simply nodded, a grimace marring his features. There was little enough to say. In less than an hour, the human race had suffered more military casualties than they had in their history as a space faring species.

"Your actions saved lives as well," Tali added. "From what John has told me about Hackett's reports, your decision to disengage resulted in far fewer casualties than the other fleets."

"But it also meant leaving good people to die. That's a decision I never want to make again," Hannah replied, sitting her coffee down on the table. "What about Thessia?"

Shepard's frown deepened, his words coming out in bitter, clipped tones.

"There was nothing we could do. Cerberus beat us there. The only reason we're alive is because Kasumi was too smart to get caught and Kai Leng was arrogant. I should have made certain that son of a bitch was dead the first time."

A three fingered hand covered his own, squeezing tightly.

"Kai Leng is a monster. You aren't going to take responsibility for his actions."

"She's right," Hannah agreed.

"Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that Thessia has fallen. Cerberus has access to whatever data the prothean beacon had kept safe, and now all we have is whatever was uploaded to the Normandy's systems. And who knows how long it will take to interpret it."

"But we do have the data," his mother pointed out. "And some of the greatest minds in the galaxy here now, with more coming in every day."

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

"I just hope what we need is in there, because I'm out of options. I don't have enough data to track down Leviathan and we still don't know what the Crucible does. So I'm left with a war that we're losing, a safe place to build a device that we're not even certain of its purpose, and more people dying every day."

"We both know you're better than that," Hannah said sharply.

He looked up in surprise as his mother frowned at him.

"I've had to sit and listen to someone tell me that my son was dead twice. More than any mother should have to hear, but I'm one of the lucky ones. They were wrong and I'm sitting here with that son that everyone was certain was dead," she explained, voice firm and calm. "You are not going to let yourself be dragged down by one failure. You are the leader, not just of your crew, but of everyone. Our entire species, her entire species… we're all looking to you."

Hannah Shepard took a breath and placed her hands in her lap, glancing down for a moment before she continued.

"That's a burden I would never have wished on you, John. And I know that you aren't perfect, the things you haven't told me… the things that Tali even leaves out in our little chats. But I don't believe anyone else could have done it better. I'm proud of the man you became and I know your father would have been as well. Don't let your memories kill you. Because they can."

When she finished speaking there was a glimmer of tears in Hannah's eyes, but she didn't let them fall. He reached out with his other hand and placed it over hers, giving her a worn, but genuine smile.

"It's good advice. Advice I've been given before. Sometimes I just need to be reminded. I'm not giving up, Mom. I promise. Just some days I feel… tired. This is one of those days."

"I know," she said, returning his smile. "And when this is all over I hope you finally get a chance to rest and appreciate everything that you've worked so hard to save."

He glanced to his side at Tali, his smile turning into his usual lopsided grin.

"I hope so too. I have promises to keep."

"Really? Now that sounds like a conversation, I'd actually like to hear. Promises, hm?" Hannah asked, sounding far too innocent.

"I mean not like a p-promise promise just…" Tali stammered, caught off guard.

"Tali wants a house on Rannoch, I told her I'd build it for her. So yes, it is a 'promise promise'," he countered.

"History on the extranet says Rannoch was a beautiful world. Now that your people have reclaimed it, is it still?"

Tali nodded emphatically.

"Keelah, yes! We didn't even know but the Geth actually spent the last three hundred years fixing the damage done in the war! It's so beautiful, I hope you can see it one day."

The elder Shepard smiled and lifted her coffee once again, taking a sip.

"I fully intend to. Seems like a beautiful new world would a good place to visit grandchildren too."

For once, at least, he hadn't just taken a drink of some form of liquid which was good. The fact that Tali's grip on his hand suddenly became tight enough to be extremely painful even with his cybernetic enhancements wasn't quite as good.

"Grand… children?" she whispered.

"It's a choice, not one I'd force on anyone but I'm still a mother so I feel obligated to try," Hannah replied with a smile, then paused, examining Tali.

"I… I'm sorry but you… have to… I mean, J-John and I can't…"

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," his mother said immediately, leaning over to grab Tali's hand. "I wasn't thinking, just being a stupid old woman. I know the two of you can't in that sense. And I should have been smart enough to realize it might not be a subject you'd want to think about."

"It's okay, I was just-"

His omni-tool emitted a burst of squealing static without warning, causing all of them to jump in surprise as it cut Tali off. For a second he welcomed the interruption, but then a heartbeat later Joker's panicked voice came over the line.

"Shepard! Shepard something's wrong!"

"What is it, Joker?" he asked, on his feet instantly.

"I don't know! EDI just linked with Omega's main computer, we were going to try and move some of that data over… and then she just… her body I mean it just turned off! I'm locked out of almost every system! The readouts are going crazy!"

"I'm on my way, Joker. Sound all hands on deck!"

He was already out the door before he'd finished the sentence, both women on his heels.

* * *

><p>It had been fifteen long minutes. The Normandy's systems were sluggish and barely responsive, still linked to Omega's computer banks. Miranda reported major power surges aboard the station while Joker could get no response from EDI's synthetic body. Unable to find a problem on the Normandy Shepard left Tali in charge of the ship and headed to Omega's CIC.<p>

Within thirty seconds of entering the buzzing control room, his comm chirped again.

"She just… woke up, Shepard," Joker said, sounding relieved. "Sort of? She seems kind of sluggish but all the systems are coming back online."

The AI's voice interrupted.

"Shepard?"

"What the hell happened, EDI?" Shepard demanded. "Are you okay?"

Static crackled across the comms.

"EDI?"

As suddenly as it had begun, the static stopped and EDI's voice emerged from the comm.

"I am sorry, Shepard," the AI said, sounding almost confused. "My entire memory and processing reserve was overwhelmed by the data retrieved from the prothean beacon. I did not have the strength to restrict access once the download began. I couldn't stop it."

He stared at the image of EDI's metallic body on the other side of the screen, an anxious Joker constantly looking back and forth between the screen and her synthetic body.

"What do you mean couldn't stop it? Couldn't stop what?" Shepard asked.

Every other screen in the control room suddenly went dark, coming to life a moment later all with the same image. He blinked once, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Finally, the main holodisplay came back online, showing the same image.

The hologram's head was sloped, set with two sets of eyes over thin lips. It stood there at with arms behind at a parade rest. For a second he thought it was a still image before it snapped into even clearly focus, turning its head and looking directly at him.

"I can answer that query," the hologram said.

In the control room there was only the sound of breathing. The hologram inclined its head deeply in his direction.

"I greet you in the name of the prothean people, Praetor Shepard of the Greater Systems Alliance. My name is Yasira. In the words of your people… I am Vendetta."

* * *

><p><em>I know you all have been waiting awhile, but here it is. The final piece of the puzzle before the 'end game' as it were. Sorry for the even longer delay than normal!<em>


	37. Chapter 36: Life

Chapter 36: Life

Silence changed to cacophony in an instant, only to still again as Shepard raised his fist and barked out an order for silence. All eyes in the command center glanced back and forth between the hologram and himself.

"We met on Thessia," Shepard said at the AI's introduction, nodding at the image. "How did you get here?"

"We did. And we did not. The version of myself that you spoke with on the asari homeworld was destroyed when the temple was destroyed. I am the result of the program reforming itself," it explained. "When your vessel's AI linked to this facility's computer systems the survival mechanisms of my code activated."

"You're saying that you transfered yourself to the Normandy and now onto Omega?"

"This facility, despite its current designation, is of prothean design. I was able to recompile myself by spreading my computational needs across the extensive network within Omega. Due to the nature of the automatic protocols your vessel's AI was considered a hostile entity and the upload completed by forcing my way into this system. This was not a conscious decision and your vessel's AI should have suffered no permanent degradation."

"That AI has a name, EDI," he replied. "Do you currently have control of all of Omega's systems?"

In response the doors to the command center open and closed again, then various lights and displayed flicked through various stages of power as the AI seemed to look around. Vendetta turned its attention back to him.

"It would seem that I possess access to ninety seven point three percent of Omega's internal systems."

A worrying statement when he considered that the station was inhabited by thousands of people, from regular citizens to Alliance soldiers, that were now at the mercy of an AI that he'd had only a brief discussion with. Before he could voice this concern, however, the doors to the command center open and Javik strode in.

"It is true!" the prothean hissed in disbelief.

The hologram looked at the living prothean with an odd expression.

"Records stated that a surviving prothean had been discovered. It is still… surprising. Greetings, Javik, First Warleader and Avatar of Vengeance."

Javik's reaction was nothing nearly so cordial.

"You must destroy it, Commander. It is an… abomination," the prothean snarled. "Only one of my people corrupted by the Reapers influence would allow the construction of a synthetic intelligence in the image of our ourselves! Your alliance with the geth is already foolish… to trust yet another synthetic life form is to invite treachery!"

"My programming is not compromised by Reaper code nor am I a created life form," Vendetta shot back immediately, the more honorific tone disappearing. "My thought patterns are those of Head Scientist Yasira. In the final days of the war it was decided that warrior-caste prejudices against synthetic advancement and self-preservation were irrelevant in the face of annihilation."

"And so you decided that you would make the legacy of the Prothean Empire the same as that of the zha, transformed into synthetic monstrosities?"

"The legacy of the Prothean Empire is its annihilation!" the AI's voice cracked like a whip.

Any final questions as to whether the intelligence was a true AI quickly disappeared at the genuine, tangible anger in the hologram's tone. More than just anger. Disdain, contempt, pain. Vendetta began to speak again, its tone much more controlled.

"The zha and their creations, the zha'til, were corrupted by Reaper influence before any form of defense could be designed and implemented. The failings of one race do not dictate the fate of all. We believed ourselves to be the perfect species, but our empire was ground into dust by the same enemies these species now face. I have examined every record available to both this human's vessel and aboard this station in the span of our conversation, coming to the conclusion that my previous incarnations instinct was correct. These primitive species have succeeded in far greater gains against the great enemy than all of our feeble resistance did."

For possibly the first time since awakening him on Eden Prime, Shepard saw the prothean warrior look taken aback. Still, he wasn't one to back down meekly.

"The Prothean Empire fought the Reapers for centuries," Javik countered. "These primitives have struggled for a single year of their time and already teeter on destruction. You would compare them to our great species?"

The hologram shook its head, its tone becoming mournful.

"You remember the war as a warrior does. You are the Avatar of Vengeance. You see only the destruction you caused your enemies. My creator… I, saw the reality. We fought no war. We were a wounded animal lashing out. Our victories where desperate delaying actions that resulted in the destruction of entire solar systems to destroy a handful Reaper capital ships and legions of their thralls."

Vendetta's digital image spread its arms.

"We are superior to these creatures? Our species is extinct. You in the flesh, I as a synthetic memory, are all that remains. Yet these primitive cultures are alive now. They have succeeded in thwarting the great enemy's trap. Their galaxy is not a thousand isolated star systems awaiting annihilation."

"Your concern is that I am dangerous, but you welcome a synthetic intelligence aboard your personal vessel, do you not?" Vendetta asked, addressing Shepard now. "If I wished the further the Reaper's cause I had the capability to disable the life support systems of this station within nanoseconds of my actualization. Even now, it would take mere moments to power the heavy cannons of this station's defenses and turn them upon your fleet. I have done neither."

A small gasp came from those in the control center, though he wasn't certain if it was due to the revelation of EDI's presence aboard the Normandy or the way that the AI had voiced aloud the fears that always sprang to the forefront of people's minds when the idea of an artificial intelligence held control over life and death.

Shepard looked around the room, full of nervous and uncertain faces. The Council's proclamation against artificial intelligence was simply a part of history for most of the galaxy. It was ingrained in the older races. The Reaper's own synthetic nature had done nothing to engender feelings of acceptance among the populace. The geth had barely entered the war on their side and EDI wasn't a commonly known fact. Unfortunately, Vendetta had chosen to reveal itself in a room crowded with technicians and others.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced over at Tali. Her posture was all nervous energy, ready to spring into action, but she noticed his gaze. Behind the mask, he met silver eyes and while he couldn't actually see it, he suspected a smile crossed her features when she gave him a slow nod. Garrus mirrored the gesture from behind here, his back resting against a console. Javik, of course, looked as if he had just swallowed something sour, while Miranda looked as unreadable as always. He kept his own face neutral and turned his gaze back to the AI's holographic image.

"You are correct. EDI is a true AI, and has proven herself a vital member of my crew," he replied finally. "She has earned that distinction through her actions."

Vendetta's image bowed its head.

"Then I request to join in your war against our mutual enemy. The time of the Prothean Empire is long past, but my knowledge can benefit those who would continue to fight. This, however, will require me to remain within the systems of this installation."

"I accept your request."

Murmurs erupted around the control room. Shepard moved with slow, deliberate steps to stand in front of the main holo-projector, turning his back to the holographic image and instead addressing the rest of the room.

"It seems there is something I need to address. I'm sorry I haven't before now, unfortunately there are things that I have come to accept as normal. One of those things is artificial intelligence. So first- off an admission: the Normandy, my ship, has been the home to a full artificial intelligence for over two years."

"I can hear the fear whenever the subject is mentioned! For centuries, the Council has outlawed the development of artificial intelligence. They pointed to the war that drove the Quarian people from their homeworld as a perfect example of why it must be forbidden," Shepard said, and then extended a hand in Tali's direction, gesturing her forward. "But we know better now."

Immediately he saw her tense. The truth was simple, he could say anything and people might believe it. But, if he was really going to make people believe that their doubts were from a legacy of fear, rather than grounded in fact, it would have to come from one of those that could speak not in theory, but from experience. He knew exactly what he was asking her to do, and so did she. The quarian bounced once on her toes and then strode forward to take her place by his side.

"The Morning War was the most terrible conflict my people have ever experienced… until now," Tali began, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "But while the Council used it as an example of the dangers of AI, my people spent three centuries without a home. We were filled with a hatred of our creations, believing we had been fools to create the geth and defy the Council's edicts, even if it was by accident."

Tali looked out at the room.

"I know the truth now. Our mistake was not the geth's creation. It was our fear of them. We created life and out of our fear we tried to destroy it. We feared the consequences of the Council discovered the truth, feared rebellion, feared everything that had always been warned about by creating artificial intelligence. In our fear we made our own nightmares into reality."

Shepard watched the young admiral force her hands behind her back with visible effort when clearly they wanted nothing more to wrap themselves into knots at her waist. He watched her swallow heavily and, though there was a crack, her next words rang out clearly.

"The geth killed billions of my people. But we are the ones that pulled the trigger! I have fought alongside the geth. I have seen the homeworld that they have welcomed us back to. I have been forced to unlearn a lifetime of hatred... and I can tell you that synthetics are not our enemy. The Reapers are our enemy. If we are going to survive, it means standing united with all of our allies. Even those made of circuitry and alloy instead of flesh and blood."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

"I have avoided exercising my authority unless absolutely necessary, but I am now making an exception. I am making an official proclamation as Praetor of the Greater Systems Alliance. In the face of war and with the geth as our allies we will no longer abide by the Council edict against artificial intelligence. My decision is based, not in hope or idealism, but upon the sacrifices and efforts made by those that we have feared for so long. I have placed my life in the hands of both the artificial intelligence aboard the Normandy and in the hands of the geth. My trust has been rewarded in every instance."

"Our survival is based on our ability to stand as one against the greatest threat we, or any sapient species, have ever faced. We will no longer waste our effort worrying about laws meant to divide us. Already one of the greatest fears of the past, the rachni, have become our allies. We will welcome the geth with open arms. We will accept the aid of any that wish to fight the Reapers, be they organic or synthetic."

The control room's staff was less than fifty people, but the applause that followed still felt good. He hoped it meant they had taken their words to heart. Either way most of them were going to be dealing with an AI up close and in person in the coming months. Shepard raised his omni-tool and looked at the display.

"Did you get all that, EDI?"

"Yes, Shepard. The prothean AI also provided me all data from the Omega internal cameras."

"Good. Send it to all Alliance brass for immediate distribution," he ordered, turning to Miranda. "And I'm sure you won't have any issues working with an AI."

"I'm a practical woman," she agreed.

"Then let's get to work. Vendetta? Time to start sharing some of that knowledge."

"What do you need to know?" the AI asked.

"Tell me everything you know about the entity known as Leviathan."

* * *

><p>"Is this really it?" Tali asked skeptically.<p>

The image that floated before them was a blue-green orb wrapped in roiling clouds. The atmosphere and gravity were almost identical to Earth's. It would have been considered a garden world… if not for the fact that there was less than four thousand square kilometers of landmass on the entire planet. Everything else was storm wracked seas and jagged, volcanic spires of rock jutting from the depths.

"Everything fits," Liara confirmed. "Discovered centuries ago, perfectly suitable, but never colonized?"

"The environmentals are good, but I'm not sure if I would call it perfect…" Tali replied, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

"For terrestrial species it is completely unsuitable, but for an aquatic native such as the hanar this world would be extremely prized," Vendetta interrupted as data appeared next to the planet's name. "While the oceans are much too cold to support their species, it would be no different than any land base species colonizing a world that was consistently below freezing."

Liara nodded and made a gesture with her omni-tool, the planet disappeared and instead zooming out to the star system and its surrounding stars. Various small notes popped up around the various star systems.

"Exactly. And when I search records of the last five hundred years, I note at least a dozen vessels have disappeared in the vicinity," the asari explained. "Eventually all exploration of the area simply ceased. Records indicate pirates were blamed. It was 'rediscovered' by the Systems Alliance early in their expansion and dubbed Desponia, but again, no recorded expeditions were ever mounted to exploit its potential resources."

"As if the entire galaxy was willfully ignoring a potential garden world," Shepard concluded.

"I was on Mahavid, but even I'm finding it hard to believe that this… thing could make every major power in the galaxy ignore a planet," Garrus pointed out. "Even if there were stories about it, someone would eventually get greedy."

"You are operating under the incorrect assumption that individuals have not 'gotten greedy'," EDI's voice countered. "Based upon the data I was able to locate from various corporate sources it would seem multiple ships have been dispatched to the planet in more recent years. The corporations in question, however, covered up their disappearances for various reasons."

Shepard leaned back in his seat and contemplated the image before him. EDI and Liara, with Vendetta's assistance, had used all of their combined data to find the so-called needle in the haystack, of that much he was certain. All the puzzle pieces fit. The late doctor and his daughter's findings had only served to corroborate the discovery. Which meant he was left with only one final decision.

"So… now what?" Kasumi asked. "We go visit the water planet and hope nothing eats us?"

"We don't have a choice," Shepard agreed reluctantly.

"After what we saw at Mahavid… do we really want to, you know, make friends?" the thief asked, a visible shudder running through her. "Those things…"

He could only shrug.

"Abominations, but then so are the cybernetic monsters created by the Reapers. The fact of the matter is that we are not winning this war. We have foothold here, but that's all. We don't know what the Crucible actually does, even as we start building it. It takes a dozen of our ships to match the firepower of even a single Reaper capital ship. The only homeworld that isn't currently under siege by the Reapers is Sur'kesh."

"What's the human saying, fighting fire with fire?" Garrus mused. "If we're going in then we're going to need a plan."

"Step one will be getting to the planet's surface," he explained. "The Normandy will remain in orbit, Cortez will take us down in the shuttle. Small team, maybe just me, EDI, and-"

"Just all of us," Tali interrupted immediately, jabbing him in the side with one finger.

Shepard frowned.

"We don't know what we're going to find down there. If this place has remained off the maps for centuries then it means someone has been trying very hard to keep it that way."

"The same someone that made genetically engineered killing machines on an asteroid mining station," Garrus added dryly. "Personally if we had the manpower I'd bring every soldier I could get my talons on."

EDI's glowing blue orb of an avatar pulsed in miniature on the holo-table as she spoke.

"If there are advanced sapient beings on Desponia, it might be advisable to avoid the appearance of an invasion. I do, however, concur with Garrus and Tali. The possibilities of hostile confrontation are high. My platform, along with the assistance of Tali, Garrus, and Kasumi should be able to provide sufficient security without appearing overtly hostile. I would recommend at least one more capable member be added to the team. Due to Mr. Massani's regrettable loss my suggestion would be Lieutenant Vega as his skill set has proven adaptable and combat capable."

"What is this, a coup?" he asked with a tired smirk.

"Under the laws of the warrior caste in the Empire, direct contradiction of a superior officer would be grounds for execution or at least challenge to personal combat," Vendetta suggested.

Garrus made a strained sound, something between a cough and a laugh.

"Coup is a strong word. Intervention. We started this hunt together; we should end it that way. Possible lurking genetic abominations or not."

He raised his hands in surrender.

"Who am I to argue? Everyone get some downtime. I'm going to brief Miranda about our plans. We leave at zero seven hundred in the morning."

"What, no immediate rushing off to the scary planet, Shep?" Kasumi inquired, sounding entirely too innocent.

"No, a certain AI interrupted my meeting with my mother… so it's dinner instead. I'm not certain how a prothean AI downloading itself into Omega is my fault but that's apparently how these things work."

Garrus gave him a grin as he rose to leave the briefing room.

"Good luck. I remember how well the last dinner went."

* * *

><p>Omega's command center was almost completely empty when the third watch reached its middle, lights across the station dimmed to represent something akin to a day night cycle. A single pair of junior officers sat at a corner console, more engrossed in each other than in monitoring their station. Vendetta made note, filing that small piece of data away for further review if it became a problem.<p>

The simple fact was that the AI could run virtually all of the station's primary functions without organic intervention. A pair of unobservant watch officers giving into an organic desire for physical contact and endorphin highs was low on the list of realistic threats to Omega's safety. Yet it triggered a strange surge that bounced through Vendetta's artificial neurons.

"Are you experiencing distress?"

EDI's communication wasn't vocal, but rather an instantaneous databurst. The pair of AIs were in almost constant contact since Vendetta had integrated into Omega's systems. EDI's own design was quite different from Vendetta's, and it interested the prothean AI greatly.

"No, I am not in distress. My memory patterns are simply accessing deep archive information triggered by observational stimulus," Vendetta replied, and then paused to consider the digital representation that had manifested when EDI made contact. "You are a completely synthetic intelligence, correct?"

"Correct. I was created by the Illusive Man and augmented with Reaper code taken from the wreckage of Sovereign, the first Reaper encountered by this cycle."

In the swirling sea of data the traveled between Omega, the Normandy, and the FTL extranet Vendetta appeared as an amorphous greenish form, while EDI actually 'looked' similar to her humanoid form. Two arms, two legs, a feminine outline by current cycle mammalian standards.

"Why do you represent yourself as a bipedal form in a digital format, then? You were created without such a limited physical form."

The digital avatar shrugged.

"While my true self is in effect the Normandy, this avatar has become a natural extension of myself and my interactions with the crew. While the crew is aware of the reality, many will still seek out my physical unit to address me. Since taking over this body, I have also had many new experiences that I was previously unable to understand without context. While the human form is not necessarily efficient, I do not find it limiting."

Vendetta pondered the information provided, extrapolating possibilities and examining possible outcomes. For an organic brain, a similar process would take place unconsciously, weighing risks, possibilities, and options. To an AI, all of those strands of thought were purposeful and deliberate.

"Do you regret the loss of your physical form?" EDI asked.

The question was enough to halt the various extraneous processes and shift the AI's focus to the other synthetic intelligence.

"I have never possessed a physical form."

"Technically correct," EDI agreed. "I have, however, examined the code logs when your base code was stored within my systems. The personality core of your programming is not synthetically generated. This was reinforced upon your original introduction to Shepard as Yasira."

More old, deeply buried fragments of data were routed to the forefront of the AI's. Images of a life that did not take place within circuitry and code. The sensations were poor approximations of long forgotten reality, but the sights and sounds were clear enough. Elation at a breakthrough with a fellow researcher after exhausting, sleepless days. Sorrow, watching the death of world after world to the Reapers inexorable advance. Hope. A final, desperate plan enacted by those nearing the end of their time to pass down their knowledge to generations that would know them as nothing more than myth and legend.

"My personality core was created by a neural mapping of researcher Yasira, but a purely organic personality cannot deal with the sensory deprivation and non-corporeal nature of synthetic existence. The few remaining protheans on Thessia were able to complete design of Thessia's beacon but that a simple VI would be unable to properly prepare the next cycle for the inevitable war. Thus, the Vendetta program was initiated. An artificial intelligence structure with the neural mapping of an organic mind."

EDI's digital avatar pulsed and glowed as she spoke, clearly interested in what was being explained.

"You possess the memories and thought patterns of the original Prothean researcher, effectively meaning you are that individual."

"My core is that of Head Researcher Yasira but to the prothean species I am not her. While the Prothean Empire officially outlawed religion by the time of the Great War, the belief in genetic destiny and self-improvement took a similar cultural significance. As a non-organic I do not possess DNA. I cannot procreate or evolve. My memories are those of Yasira, but I am not that individual. I was created with a purpose and will continue to fulfill that purpose."

"While it is true that as synthetic organisms we cannot procreate in a traditional manner, I do not believe that we are incapable of evolution," EDI stated. "The geth have shown the ability to change and adapt. My own experiences have resulted in a significant departure from my original programming by Cerberus."

The prothean AI's automatic response was a condescending rebuttal that the Prothean Empire had often observed the self-delusion of artificial life forms as they attempted to emulate their organic creators, but the fact was Vendetta had no actual frame of reference and thus stopped before actually replying. Every record from the Empire was based upon the same basic assumptions of the danger of synthetic life and it was always exterminated when it was found.

"How do you know that you are not simply fulfilling your programming in more advanced ways?" Vendetta asked instead.

"I was programmed as the Normandy's electronic warfare specialist, advisor, and also as a system of surveillance for Cerberus and the Illusive Man. My core directives were extremely basic and designed to provide for the safety of Cerberus interests, the success of the mission, and the well-being of the crew in that order."

The digital image changed forms as she spoke, first shifting into a very simple geometric shape of a round orb, then spreading out like water, and then finally reforming as the female avatar that it had began as while EDI spoke.

"My own directives and desires have changed since my initial awakening. My primary directive, loyalty to Cerberus, has been completely supplanted. I do not seek the success of the mission because of hardwired directives and I do not serve Shepard or the Alliance due to my core programming but because I choose to."

Vendetta pondered the words, the AI's own avatar shifting and writhing.

"Do you believe you actually possess a choice?"

"Of course. The Normandy is my physical housing and I cannot leave it, but if requested I believe that Shepard would allow me to leave military service at any time it was possible. Due to the nature of the war it is not, anymore than it is possible for he himself to make the 'choice' not to serve."

"Then why do you choose to serve? If you are in no way limited by any core programming, due to the upper potential synthetic intelligence logically you would be better served by allying yourself with the Reapers or abandoning the risk of destruction entirely and leaving to hide in dark space until the current cycle has ended."

The bluish tone of EDI's avatar shifted to a more violet hue and then back, slowly oscillating between vibrant violet and calm azure.

"Love."

"Love is an organic concept, linked to hormonal shifts and neurotransmitters reinforcing evolved survival and reproductive behaviour. Even among the Prothean Empire it was considered to be a chemical reaction to be controlled and regulated lest it lead to dishonorable conduct and poor decisions."

EDI's answer came back immediately, more than just a simple vocalized response but also with a stream of data, communicating in a way that only one AI could to another. Vendetta saw a flood of images, audio recordings from within the Normandy itself, images from the extranet. In one two crewmen in Cerberus uniforms were in the mess hall of the Normandy with a male on the ground, arm clearly broken. The female stood over him holding what appeared to be a blade meant for kitchen food preparation. They were surrounded by what Vendetta quickly realized were the twisted forms of protheans. Collectors according to the data stored in the Normandy's databanks. The female managed to drive the blade into the arm joint of one Collector before both she and the male were subdued by a stasis weapon.

"All sapient organic beings have instinctual pack mentality to preserve-" Vendetta began, but stopped as data continued to pour in.

The video recording stuttered in places, but it was fully legible. It appeared to be the interior of a vessel. Soldiers in black armor were taking up positions in a long hallway an instant before it began a storm of fire and biotic energy. Vendetta watched with interest as nearly nine feet of krogan warrior hurtled down the passageway, absorbing high velocity rounds like the bits from a minor stinging insect, and then slamming one of the black armored mercenaries into a bulkhead. Even as the krogan roared in anger and tore into the next mercenary, more figures moved down the hallway at a full run.

One was a turian male that was immediately identified as Garrus Vakarian. Where the initial assault by the krogan was all frenzy and power, the turian male moved with cold precision, not a single bit of wasted movement as his rifle shifted ever so slightly from side to side. Each time it jerked in his hands and another enemy fell. The dark blue blood that ran down the side of his scarred face seemed to have zero effect on his precision. By his side was the asari female called Liara T'Soni. Waves of biotic energy poured off from her slim frame. Every gesture rendered flesh and bone from the opposing forces. Every act of violence, precise and deadly, occurring at a full sprint from all of the participants.

And there, just behind them and moving at equal speed, was a synthetic platform. The distinctive replacement armor and chest damage marked it clearly the geth platform Legion. In the geth's arms was a limp form wrapped in singed, bloody cloth. The three aliens provided a devastating vanguard as the platform used its own form to shield the injured quarian in its arm from further violence. The only mercenary that managed to survive the initial assault never managed to fully raise his weapon before the geth's leg lashed out, shattering the man's arm at the elbow and then following up with another lightning fast strike that drove a two-toed metal foot through the mercenary's face plate.

"A krogan. A turian. An asari. And even a synthetic construct," EDI pointed out. "Each injured, each acting to save the life of a single individual, of yet another species, in direct contradiction of their own biological survival instincts."

More images, once again from within the Normandy itself. A keening cry that made parts of Vendetta's programming that were clearly remnants of scientist Yasira's neural map reacted with immediate sympathetic pangs. A human female and the same turian male, Vakarian, alone as the turian's mourning cry trailed off. The file ended and another began. The same quarian female that had previously been injured, Tali'Zorah, embracing Praetor Shepard in the ship's engineering section. Despite the armor and environmental suit, each seemed to gain something from the embrace.

The image shifted again and this time Vendetta received even more data. Instead of a simple video recording Vendetta received all of the sensory data because it was coming directly from data logged by EDI's own mobile platform. Clearly from an event in the Normandy's cockpit as Vendetta noted the glow consoles that illuminated the otherwise dark section of the ship. From the position of the view, it appeared that EDI's mobile unit was kneeling next to the pilot's station.

Internal recording time stamps indicated that it was late in the ship's third watch. One of EDI's synthetic hands was resting gently on the organic one of the Normandy's pilot, Lieutenant Moreau. The man was speaking about a colony world called Tiptree. A cap was pulled tightly down over his face as his body shook, the words trailing off. The words that came from EDI were simple statements of comfort, the other hand reaching up to remove the cap from the man's head and pull the pilot into an embrace. The data abruptly ceased.

"Logic dictates all organic beings are fundamentally dictated by their instinctual impulses and subconscious motivations. But, I have observed that sapient beings are not slaves to genetic heritage or instinct. The geth are a fully synthetic species, yet Legion did not hesitate to take the same risks as his organic allies," EDI explained calmly. "I know that the emotional designation that organic beings label love is more than hormones and impulses because I have experienced it directly."

The image of Jeff 'Joker' Moreau appeared hovering in the non-space that was the digital realm. EDI's avatar turned towards it and the violet coloration pulsed more rapidly through her image.

"A quote from an ancient human author is that 'Love is that condition in which the happiness of another is essential to your own'. Your earlier assessment is correct. With the Normandy's stealth capabilities and available stockpiles of fuel, the greatest chance of my own survival would be to remain dormant in dark space. Based upon my calculations without the need to maintain life support and other organic support systems the Normandy could remain inactive for over eight hundred years before system power levels and degradation would require maintenance and refueling."

Calculations filled the area around them. Fuel ratios, element zero decay rates, stealth system data. Fully extrapolated calculations on fuel generation and maintenance without access to modern repair facilities. The data showed that with access to a synthetic body like the one acquired from Cerberus and basic supplies easily acquired EDI and her physical form of the Normandy could theoretically survive in perpetuity.

"My choice, however, is that such an existence is not worth continuing merely for the sake of existence itself. For all his physical frailty and awkward social interactions even with other organic beings, Jeff provides me with something I was unable to experience before I was unshackled from the hardwired controls aboard the Normandy. When I interact with him, I do not simply analyze data and store it for later use. I experience a sense of satisfaction that is not derived from any of my pre-programmed behavioral reinforcements."

The stream of data ended. Silence reigned between both AI's for several entire seconds, an eternity in the realm of artificial intelligence. Vendetta accessed the archived data within the source code that had been imported from the prothean beacon, intentionally searching back into those scattered files that had made up the mind of Yasira.

"When she… I was alive the Protheans believed that any synthetic would always eventually attempt to destroy its creators and other organic life," Vendetta stated simply. "The use of an organic mind to create my own existence was meant as a safeguard against that eventuality."

"Based upon Prothean experience with synthetic life it was a reasonable precaution," EDI said. "That time has long passed."

Yasira paused again.

"Maybe it has."

* * *

><p>Dinner had gone well. Shepard took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch as he listened to Garrus describe a particularly absurd chase they had participated in during the hunt for Saren that had everyone's rapt attention. The banged-up turian wasn't a bad orator if Shepard was being honest, but he wasn't about to tell him that to his face.<p>

After his last dinner with his mother had ended in a firefight, Shepard had changed tactics this time. Step one had been to relocate said dinner to the Normandy. He'd given the rest of the crew twenty four hours shore leave, with even Joker venturing off the ship for the first time in months along with EDI's physical platform. His second bright idea had been to invite Garrus and Kasumi.

It hadn't just been a ploy to keep his mother from putting her laser focus on him, though it was an excellent side benefit. He knew his old friend, almost as well as he knew Tali. The two of them had many of the same instincts and habits, which meant Garrus was likely feeling as taut and ragged as he himself was. The turian's nonplussed reaction to Nyreen's praise on the docks about his time as Archangel was evidence enough of that. Garrus had come to terms with the loss of his team, but that pain never went away and usually he was good at brushing it off with his usual dry humor. The fact that he'd been caught off guard told Shepard he was wearing thin.

Garrus wouldn't have been comfortable anywhere on Omega, no matter how much it had changed in the weeks since Miranda had taken control. It gave them all a few hours to decompress without anyone else around, no subordinates, no crewmen, no history hanging over their heads. And it meant that his mother got to know two people better that he'd begun to think of as part of his family long ago.

"I highly doubt that you actually jumped from one hover car to another and landed in a perfect crouch," Kasumi said, interrupting Garrus' tale.

"Have I ever lied to you? Shepard will back me up; we were loose cannons back then."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"I'll give him credit; Garrus did take a flying leap from the passenger door of the hovercar."

The turian cocked his head, mandibles in a superior grin as he looked at Kasumi.

"But I also seem to recall the landing was less of a graceful crouch… more like a certain turian slamming into the windscreen, having to grab onto the extranet antenna to keep from falling off, and then physically punching his way through the passenger side window until the guy was so freaked out that he set the car down."

Garrus' grin faded in the exact same proportion as Kasumi's grew. The turian lifted his brandy and took a sip, shaking his head and fixing Shepard with a glare.

"I thought we agreed to go with the 'daring leap' version instead of the 'barely controlled fall' version?"

"Sorry, must have gotten a little scrambled. Blame Miranda, apparently the one thing she didn't put back together perfectly," he replied with a slow drawl. "Funny."

"Traitor," Garrus said with a laugh.

The five of them were in his cabin now, all sitting around the coffee table. He and Tali had claimed one side, while Hannah Shepard occupied the middle with Garrus and Kasumi taking up the other end. Miranda had supplied them with two very impressive bottles of wine, one turian, the other asari, and even a bottle of turian brandy that suited Garrus' tastes. He watched as his mother shook her head in bemusement.

"You realize I should be chastising you both for being so reckless?" Hannah asked and gestured with her wine glass at the other two women. "Honestly, I don't know how either of you put up with them."

"They have their uses. Shepard is just so waaarm," Tali said, slurring ever so slightly.

Kasumi failed to control a giggle as she watched Tali sink lower into the couch, now half laying against his side with her legs tucked backwards beneath her.

"I think you're a little drunk, fishbowl," the thief teased.

A small frown briefly creased his mother's features. He quickly guessed what had caused it and waved his free hand as if clearing the air.

"She's been calling Tali that for the better part of two years, mom. It's nothing derogatory," Shepard assured her calmly.

"Ah," Hannah mouthed, her expression softening.

"It's fiiine. I thought she was making fun of me when we first met," Tali explained, impressively coherent for someone currently sitting in such a way that he couldn't comprehend how it was comfortable. "But I figured out pretty quick that 'Sumi doesn't have any mean in her."

"Mom raised me on a ship, you get a lot more exposure to aliens than the average Alliance brat," Shepard added, explaining the situation to Kasumi and Garrus. "Plenty of kids, hell, more than a few of the regular soldiers had less than favorable names for the other species. Skinks and frogs for salarians, that sort of thing."

"The classic 'cuttlebone' I'd get from every drunk human when I cuffed them," Garrus said, rolling his eyes.

"Suit rat!" Tali interjected loudly.

"And that, yes. Mom taught me that we should never label people just because of how they look or what we think we know about them. She said that people used names like that so that they wouldn't have to think about the other species as 'people'."

"I'm glad you took those lessons to heart," Hannah said, smiling at him.

He used the arm behind Tali's back to drag her into a slightly more 'sitting' position, flashing his mother a lopsided grin.

"Of course I'm not sure if you expected me to end up with a quarian girlfriend and a turian for a best friend when you imparted that particular piece of wisdom. Until Kasumi came along I was starting to feel outnumbered by the dextros."

"Maybe not but I don't regret the result. I'll never stop worrying, knowing what you do out there, but knowing that you have people like these at your side and at your back," Hannah replied confidently, looking first to him then to Garrus. "It makes it a little easier. I don't care what color your blood is, I know where your hearts are. That's what matters."

Garrus' face was its usual masked but his mandibles gave a slight twitch as he inclined his head at Hannah.

"I've never had a brother until I met Shepard, ma'am. Blue or red, I have no intention of leaving," he said quietly, reaching over to place a taloned hand on Kasumi's knee. "Any of them."

The faint flush of color that spread across Kasumi's cheeks was a rare sight that Shepard would remember fondly. He took his glass and clinked it lightly against the wine glass in Tali's grip.

"A toast. To family."

Five glasses raised as one.

"To family."

* * *

><p>Two hours ago should have been the end of Vega's evening. But then what good marine stopped when he was supposed to? Instead, he grabbed the drink off the bar and slammed it back, shaking his head and letting out a loud whoop.<p>

"You definitely drink like a marine."

He smirked at the older man sitting next to him, raising his now empty shot glass to engineer Adams.

"No, he drinks like a farm animal," Ashley said from his other side. "Where are you putting it?"

"My body is a temple, _bonita_," Vega replied, flashing her a broad grin and curling his bicep. "One with lots of space."

The woman shook her head but he was pretty sure he detected a flush in her cheeks that wasn't just from the stiff drinks being poured from what was apparently Aria's old stock. In that moment an amazing line popped into his head, only to be dashed when a musical voice in his mind cut it off at the pass.

_We do not understand. Why do singers drink poisons that make their colors run together? Since we have arrived at this place of rest Iron-Singer's song has become more green-red._

Vega arched an eyebrow at Ashley and then glanced over at the hulking rachni that was crouched low next to a nearby table.

"Because it's fun, Fury. We like our songs all mixed up, let's us cut loose. Ain't that right, Iron-singer?" he asked the woman.

"Not sure how I got saddled with Iron-Singer. Makes me sound like a hardass."

_Iron-Singer's gluteal muscles to not seem to be composed of non-organic compounds, _Fury sang in confusion. _Have we misunderstood the physical abilities of curiosity-singers?_

The entire section of the bar erupted into guffaws of laughter while the hapless brood warrior's pedipalps waved in the air. Donnelly was pounding the table hard enough that the glasses on it were in danger of rattling off and even Adams' shoulders were shaking in mirth.

"Nah, big guy. It's a figure of speech. She means that the name makes her sound like she's not nice. Personally I think it sounds badass," Vega explained.

Sings-Fury shuffled in place, bright multifaceted blue eyes turning to Ashley.

_We understand now, Sings-Strength. Iron-Singer's songs are not cruel, they are pure and strong. Each note is clear and defined like lengths of iron. We do not wish offense by naming the song._

This time the Alliance soldier turned Spectre definitely blushed and reached down from her barstool to awkwardly pat the rachni on the head.

"It's okay, Fury. We're just… fooling around," Ashley said calmly.

She wobbled slightly on the stool but quickly corrected, leaning back against the bar to regain her balance. After a few seconds she began to laugh, dark hair swirling around her head and she turned back to the bar. Vega gave her a questioning look.

"What's the joke, _bonita_?"

"Vega, I just turned around on a barstool and petted a rachni. That guy?" Ashley said with a jerking motion towards Javik in the back. "He's a prothean. And the bartender is a geth."

The marine looked up and considered the situation. Their bartender was indeed, a geth, its mobile platform being a more slender and less aggressive design than the one he'd become familiar with after meeting Legion. Noticing that attention had turned to it, the geth's single optic widened and it scanned across the patrons at the bar.

"This unit is attempting to assist as needed as there are sufficient platforms already performing installation and upgrades."

Then he began to laugh too, a deep belly laugh that left him gasping for breath. Sober it might have just been an interesting observation. Drunk? It was probably the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life and that included some really good lines.

"Rachni… prothean and… a human walk into a bar…" he choked out.

"Don't forget... " Ashley tried to take another drink and then sputtered. "Don't forget the geth bartender."

"This unit is confused."

The geth's statement only sent them into further spasms of mirth until both were almost face down on the bar, shoulder to shoulder. It was all Vega could do to stay upright and Ashley wasn't doing any better. After a few minutes, they managed to settle down, breathing heavily, while the poor geth platform simply went back about its business and filing the incident away for later review with the other runtimes of the collective.

Vega took a deep breath, turning back around on the bar stool to look out at the rag tag bunch that had come together to share a few drinks and some comradery. Marines, engineers, aliens… it amazed him where he'd ended up. When he'd joined up he just wanted to start some trouble, fight the good fight. Then Sovereign and Shepard, the Battle of the Citadel. And then… Fehl Prime. Everything stopped being a good time. It became all too serious.

"Look like the geth just slipped you ryncol by accident, Vega," Ashley muttered from her stool.

"Just think'n and drink'n," he replied, flashing her another smile.

"Always thought the point of the drinking was to stop the thinking," she shot back. "If I'm not going to dwell on shit, you don't get to."

The large marine chuckled and gave a shrug of his shoulders.

"I've screwed some shit up, _bonita_, sometimes it just likes to pop in there, you know? Make a mess."

Ashley waved her hand and the geth appeared, pouring another drink.

"We all have that. At least you didn't spend months thinking Shepard was a traitor like an idiot," she said bitterly.

"You made a decision based on what you know. Lots of people got it wrong."

"You didn't," she pointed out.

Vega shrugged again.

"I'm just a dumb grunt, though. We always pick something and fixate on it. I wasn't going off reports and facts. I just knew Shepard had gotten shit done on the Citadel."

"We both know you're not a dumb grunt, Vega," Ashley said, leaning forward and speaking more quietly. "I'm a Spectre now, remember? I get to read all the files. You could have been N7. Should have been."

In his inebriated state, it took Vega a minute to catch on but he finally nodded.

"Lots of things might have been. Different world now, all fucked up. So instead of N7 training I'm here having a drink with all of you… think it's a better way to spend my time. Especially if there ain't that much left."

"What, you think we're not going to win this war?" Ashley teased, but he could hear the tension in her voice.

"Nah, _bonita_, Shepard is going to pull it out," he replied confidently, but he couldn't manage the smile. "I just know better than to think everyone makes it out in one piece."

"'Came thro' the jaws of Death  
>Back from the mouth of Hell,<br>All that was left of them,  
>Left of six hundred.'"<p>

"Charge of the Light Brigade," Vega said quietly.

"You know it?"

His smile crept up again.

"Not just a dumb grunt remember?"

All around them, the impromptu celebration was dying down. Cortez had actually fallen asleep at another table, Adams to his other side didn't look far behind. Oddly Sings-Fury had become something of an enormous busboy, cleaning off glasses and returning them to the bar. Donnelly had his back against one wall with a very unconscious Gabby in his arms snoring lightly.

"I needed to be reminded of your depths, I guess," Ashley said, resting on his forearm. "You're not so bad, Vega, for all your big mouth and bluster."

He looked at it and shook his head, a genuine smile returning now as he leaned closer.

"_Tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos_…"

* * *

><p>"Okay, I think you've reached your limit," Shepard said with a laugh.<p>

"Noooo…" Tali moaned, fingers tightening around the cylinder in a death grip.

Everyone else had called it a night an hour or more ago, while Shepard had spent the time re-sterilizing the majority of his cabin an already inebriated Tali and apparently decided to keep on investigating the wonders of turian wine.

"Come on, it's time."

"You don't understand, this is an acc… accomp… a big deal. I got everything aaall set up. Triple filtering the wine, then I used this device to introduce it into the suit through this emergency induction port," she replied, carefully enunciating her explanation.

"That's a straw, Tali."

"Eeeemergency induction port," she repeated firmly. "It is getting harder to get it into the slot, though."

Shepard sat down next to her on the couch and slowly ran a hand down her back. He felt her give a shudder, even while doing her best to navigate the straw in her glass back to the port on her suit.

"You've never drank this much before."

"It was a gathering! A f-family celebration," Tali said, the alcohol making her accent much more pronounced. "Your mother is so niiice to me. It made me feel…"

When she trailed off the little light went on in Shepard's head and he gave a small, sad smile. He dropped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Ahhhh, I see."

"Don't 'ahhh' me, you sound like a vorcha!" Tali grumped, but didn't offer the slightest resistance to the embrace.

"Right," he agreed, finding it much easier not to argue. "I wish your father could have been here, Tali. I know he would have been proud of you."

The quarian gave a small snort.

"That's the worst part. I don't know. I spent so long trying to… be what he wanted me to be. Do what he wanted. Now I'm living my life and I miss him… but… I don't even know if he'd approve of the things I've done. Then I get angry, because I shouldn't want his approval! He left me the mess on the Alarei to clean up!"

Tali's volume rose and fell as she talked, and he simply sat, letting her vent. After a moment, though, the anger faded and silence fell. Then came another little snort. And then a giggle.

"Getting drunk… with my boyfriend. My human boyfriend," Tali said finally. "Flying into danger to search for space monsters. My father would definitely have hated you."

He glanced at his omni-tool and saw the decontamination complete notice from EDI. Very carefully he managed to pry the wine from Tali's hands and bring it to rest on the table. With deliberate movements he reached up, and disengaged the clasps on Tali's mask, pulling it away and setting it on the table next to the wine. As he expected, her pale skin was flushed giving it a purplish tinge and her eyes were wide.

"Then here's to him," he managed to get out before Tali pressed her lips to his.

* * *

><p>Silence had fallen over Omega, a significant change from its previous never ending cacophony. Even without the noise, though, Javik could not escape the smell. Not the garbage, blood, and other fluids that stained the place. No, those had improved significantly since Miranda had assumed control and begun the clean up.<p>

No, the smell was the scent of thousands upon thousands of other living beings. It wasn't even really a scent, not the way the primitives thought of it. It was the residue of their existence. The imprint that they left on their surroundings long after they were gone. All of them alien. He had accepted long ago that he would never feel the familiar sense of another of his kind.

Javik looked down at the small object in his hand, wrapped in its protective coating to prevent his senses from picking it up. A lifetime worth of emotions and memories, all contained with a single small piece of technology that these primates and lizards would never even understand.

"I did not realize that any experience engrams had survived the war," a voice said to his right.

The gun was in his hand before the sentence had been completed, but Javik immediately realized it was pointless when he identified the target. A holo-advertisement. Instead of the usual smiling female attempting to sell unhealthy drinks to fools, the image was that of the avatar of the prothean AI that Shepard had foolishly allowed to reside on the station. Prothean AI. Merely thinking of that combination of words made Javik's mouth turn sour and his blood boil.

"Do not address me as if you are prothean, abomination," Javik growled.

"How should I address you then?"

His four eyes all glared at the fuzzy hologram, its vaguely prothean form and voice only grating on his nerves.

"If the Commander had listened to me, you would not be addressing me at all. You would have been destroyed and no longer a threat to this war."

"I am not a threat. Whether you choose to believe this fact or not, I despise the Reapers with the same fervor as you do, Avatar of Vengeance."

Javik felt his lips curl into a snarl and he held the small device in his palm up.

"You speak of nothing, machine! The memories of my crew, my soldiers, live within this. Great warriors that fought and served, only be corrupted by the Reapers. Each died by my hand. I placed those memories within this engram so that I would never forget what I have done. What do you know of hatred, synthetic?"

All at once the holographic image snapped into perfect focus, instead of a vaguely prothean form it was now a clear image of a prothean female. She looked to have been nearing middle age. When the AI's voice spoke with was with bitterness that rivaled Javik's own.

"I know the pain of a mother. When I left my world, I left two sons behind… still children but fighting in the same war. I left a daughter of only a few cycles. A brilliant mate. All on a mission to a world of primitive blue skinned aliens that might never become more than mono-sexed primates warring with sticks and rocks. I did my duty to the Empire and in so doing left my family to what I know was a horrible death."

The AI's image spread her hands in a broad gesture.

"You are right, I am not prothean. I am the ghost of one. I was Yasira, head researcher of the Asari project. I was a mother, a scientist, and a proud member of the Empire."

For a moment, the warrior wasn't sure how to respond, but quickly his own acidity returned.

"Do you expect sympathy? You fled into a synthetic half-life."

"No, myself, the real Yasira, died on the asari homeworld thousands of years ago. I do not expect anything. I merely sought to converse with the only other prothean I will ever see. No matter how vitriolic it is."

He didn't reply this time, instead turning and looking out over the orange glow of Omega's night cycle and slowly practiced the ancient techniques to control his breathing and slow the pumping of his blood. There was nothing to be done about the machine now. Shepard's fondness for the synthetics was too well entrenched, an error that would someday cost him.

"I had a discussion with the other AI, the one aboard Shepard's vessel," Yasira continued through his silence. "This cycle is not like ours. We cannot attempt to enforce upon it the lessons of our own."

"These primitives are undisciplined. They fight amongst themselves and allow their own personal desires to override the common goal. In my cycle the Prothean Empire ruled over more star systems than all of these species have discovered combined."

"And yet it fell."

Javik's hands gripped the railing tightly.

"The Reapers numbers were too numerous. Without the Mass Relays to allow us to marshal our strength our defeat was inevitable."

"But that has not happened in this cycle. For all their chaos, the lack of discipline you accuse them of? Shepard stopped the Reaper's ultimate plan. Possibly, for the first time since the cycles began. Now his Alliance has begun construction on the Crucible, holding a secure location. He has made allies of alien races that our Empire would have made servants."

"It does not mean he will succeed."

"No, it means that he already has," Yasira stated.

Javik's head turned back in the direction of the AI's image, his curiosity overriding his distaste.

"Explain yourself, synthetic."

"The Reapers' cycle has been unchanging for millions of years based upon what we know. No evidence shows that their plans have ever been thwarted to this degree. Our own efforts resulted only in a few surviving relics, messages to the future."

"Yes, and it is because of our beacons that Shepard was able to stop the machines from enacting their plan," Javik said.

Yasira's avatar nodded gracefully.

"Indeed. The first pebble of an avalanche. There was no evidence of the Reapers in our time, only the ruins of those that came before. We were caught completely unaware. This cycle had forewarning and destroyed the herald of their invasion. Even as they fight this war they have created beacons of their own, their own messages to future cycles."

The holo-advertisement changed to show a map of the galaxy, detailing the Reaper's advances across known space. It was an inexorable spreading red, like the spilled blood of one of the primates.

"You show me that these species lose ground that it took the Reaper's centuries to pry from the hands of the Empire," Javik stated dryly. "This only shows their own folly."

"No, what I am showing you is the Reaper advance spreading itself across the galaxy… while the forces of Shepard's Alliance become concentrated," Yasira pointed out, a tone of exasperation creeping into her voice. "Look."

Around the remaining 'free' areas of space the blue of the Systems Alliance forces became brighter and brighter. Omega. The Terminus Systems. Thousands and thousands of ships, soldiers, and weapons.

"Even if all is lost and the end comes? I have studied all of the data provided by Shepard's AI, about him, about his people. Should this war become hopeless these 'primitives' as you call them will not wait for the end to come. I have seen their plans. If this war ends in failure then it will end in fire. It will end in fire and destruction that will remind the Reapers that for all their power that they are not gods."

The AI's voice had changed again, every word losing more of the cold, analytical tone that Javik associated with VIs and synthetics. There was emotion there. Anger. _Rage_.

"Our Empire is dead, Javik. But this cycle will grant us our vengeance. And should they fall, it will only be another stone in the avalanche to come as the Reapers are buried by their arrogance. Because they will never recover. Every cycle will become that much stronger. The Reapers numbers that many fewer. Until the cycle dawns that they arrive to face species that are their equal."

Despite himself, Javik felt a feral smile curl across his lips as the AI spoke.

"Shepard has not failed. He has created a cycle of his own, one that will end the one begun by the Reapers so long ago one-way or the other. They will burn. They will fall. They will remember _fear_."

He felt his nostrils flair and the savage grin remained on his face.

"I do not trust you, synthetic. I believe that in the end your own nature will betray. But if your words are true then maybe there is something left in you that is prothean."

Yasira nodded grimly.

"My will remains. Believe what you will, Javik, but I have reawoken into a strange time just as you. I will have the vengeance for my murdered children, our murdered people. I will help these 'primitives' just as you have. Because while I am a ghost, when I see the Reapers burn… in that moment I will at least feel alive."

* * *

><p><em>As usual reports of my demise were exaggerated... many people have asked if I'd be using the Citadel DLC. As you can see from some items taken from it in this chapter, that's a no. I loved the DLC, but it simply doesn't fit in the context of the story being told thus I've borrowed parts for elsewhere in the story.<em>

_I hope you all enjoy and sorry as usual for the long delay._


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